


When Blue Met Green

by Fandom_Stuff



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bear Attack, Dean is a writer, Destiel - Freeform, Electrocution, Government Secrets, Gun Violence, Happy Ending, Hurt!Cas, Kidnapping, M/M, No Smut, Some Fluff, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Torture, Writer!Dean, Writing, alternating pov, bullet wounds, cabin in the woods, caretaker!Dean, extensive torture, general blood and gore, general violence, overall bad things are happening, slowwww burrrnnnn, teacher!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 64,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Stuff/pseuds/Fandom_Stuff
Summary: Dean Winchester is a struggling writer who is fishing for the start of a good story. In the hopes of sparking some inspiration for his book, he rents out a cabin in the middle of the woods and heads out there to be free from distractions. What Dean doesn’t expect to find in the middle of nowhere, is the blue-eyed stranger that stumbles upon the cabin, covered in blood, claw marks, and...a bullet wound? As Dean works to unravel the mystery of this man, he doesn’t realize that he just stumbled upon something much greater and much more dangerous than anything he could possibly imagine.
Relationships: (past) Inias/Castiel, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Castiel
Comments: 66
Kudos: 134
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Blue Eyes and Bullet Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! If you're new to my work, thanks for coming to check it out, and if you've followed me from one story to another, it's good to see you again :)  
> This fic is going to be a crazy ride so buckle up! I'd just like to say that if you haven't read the tags, please do because there might be triggering things in this fic.  
> Without further adieu, please enjoy :)  
> (oh and yes, the title is based off When Harry Met Sally, but this is a very different concept lol)

_ The soft sound of trees clattering together in a gentle wind was the only thing Alec could hear as he emerged from his tent and reached for his fishing gear… _

Dean shook his head and tore the page from the typewriter in front of him. “No. That’s not it.” 

He crumpled it up and tossed it behind him, where a growing pile of discarded paper was building up beside the trash can, and started again. 

He’d been at this for weeks.

Beginnings after beginnings he’d written, but he couldn’t figure out how he wanted to start his book. He’d moved out into the middle of nowhere to a cabin in the woods that he had rented out for a whole year, just so he could get some peace of mind and be free from any distractions; but the wilderness itself had proven to be plenty distracting, with the chirping birds and the howling winds and the rushing water from a nearby brook; all of it distracted him. 

Sweat was beginning to bead along his forehead and the slick trickle of its wet droplets were sliding down his back and causing his clothes to cling to him, leaving him hot and damp. Maybe it was time to give up on writing for a little while and go for a swim. 

With a heavy sigh, Dean gave into the urge to stop and pushed himself away from the table he’d been hunched over for the better part of three hours. He paced to the other side of the small one-room cabin to where he had stashed his duffel bag that held his swimsuit. 

He peeled his sweat-slick shirt from his back and instantly felt a rush of cooler air grace over him. The only thing he regretted about deciding to spend the majority of his time in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, was the lack of air conditioning and laundry facilities. Every two weeks or so he’d have to take a trip to the nearest town, which was about twenty miles away, to do laundry, buy writing supplies, and get food, which wouldn’t be a problem except for the fact that he had to trek about five miles to where he stashed his car and drive from there because there was no way to get to the cabin except by foot. 

That one annoying factor, among other things, was starting to make him think that maybe he should call it quits and head back to his stuffy apartment. But then, he would be reminded of the beauty of nature, his access to a wonderful waterfall pool, stargazing through the moonlit branches of large pine trees, the hoot of an owl as it called out into the night, and best of all, the freedom that came along with not being connected to technology. 

Dean hadn’t really been one to use his cell phone or social media too much anyway, but being free of it was a whole new feeling that he was beginning to really enjoy. Of course, he wasn’t out in the middle of literally nowhere without some way to communicate with those he’d left behind in the ‘real world’ as he liked to call it, he had a satellite phone and if he really tried he could find signal for his cell phone, but he usually had to walk about a mile and half and inch his way up a tree for any hope at getting reception. His brother, Sam, had insisted that he still keep his phone on him ‘just in case’ because, ‘you never know, Dean. There are bears out there, and crazy hikers’ and ‘the satellite phone could fail or something’. Dean had rolled his eyes, but indulged his brother just to keep him sane. 

Now that he’d spent about a month and a half in his little cabin of heaven, he had grown to appreciate the simpler things in life, like cold rain water showers, the sound of birds chirping early in the morning (although after a late night of making no headway on a novel those had begun to be annoying), the peaceful way the sun rises and sets, and the ability to breathe in air that wasn’t covered in thick smog or burning rubber. 

The cabin itself wasn’t luxurious by any means, it was rundown, there was a leak at the far left corner of the room that dripped steadily whenever it rained, it was small, only one room that consisted of a lumpy mattress (which Dean only spent about four hours on anyway so it wasn’t a big problem), there was wobbly table with equally wobbly chairs that sat just off center to the entire room, the floorboards creaked with every step (and sometimes Dean feared that his foot would go through the floor if he wasn’t careful), a small fireplace sat by the far wall, and there were few a cabinets to store food in, but that was it. Dean didn’t mind, it was cheap and the owner had actually been surprised to find that he was interested in such a place but had gladly let him rent it.

He never bought anything perishable from the store, just boxed and canned goods that he could heat up over a fire or on the fire pit outside, which meant that he was mostly living off of beans and rice and pasta, but he made due, and the fresh running brook that bubbled nearby was a constant source of water, so he was never out of resources. He also had a rifle and his colt (that he’d had since he was eighteen) with him in case of bears and other unwanted creatures of the wilderness or in case he had to resort to hunting off the land; but so far it hadn’t come to that. 

Altogether, Dean had decided that he was going to stay in the cabin until he had at least a semi-decent start to his book. So now, he donned his swimwear, grabbed his rifle (just in case) and headed outside to walk down, a now well-trodden, path that led to his peaceful little waterfall getaway. 

If Dean had to pick a favorite place on this planet, he was pretty sure that it was this one. The small cove-like pool was fed by a steady stream of water that rushed from the same brook that Dean collected his water from. Surrounding the pool were rocks that were covered by soft moss, and the pool itself was deep but so clear that he could see the bottom no matter where in the pool he swam. 

Relaxing in the cool water on a sweltering summer day was just what Dean needed. The second he was submerged in the refreshing depths of rushing water, he let out a sigh of contentment. The pounding of the waterfall echoed in his ears as he swam and the trees offered a nice cover from the direct rays of harsh sunlight. 

He took his time rinsing off all the sweat from his body and allowing the water to chill his boiling skin, but eventually, when his teeth began to chatter and his fingers started to look like raisins, he was forced to return to the muggy confines of his cabin. 

As he put on a fresh pair of clothes and started to think about cooking dinner he heard the distinct sound of twigs snapping underneath weight and branches being brushed aside. Dean froze, senses alert, and reached for his gun. He cocked it quickly and then stepped towards the door, rifle prepared to be trained on whatever could be lurking outside. He kicked open the door, ready to have to shoot a bear or other creature, but what he saw made him gape in surprise. 

A man was clutching at his stomach where blood seemed to be endlessly pouring, his clothes were ripped and more blood pooled from the tears in fabric, his dark hair was sticking up in every direction with leaves and twigs poking out at most angles, dirt caked his face, and mud was covering his shoes and pants. The guy looked like hell. 

“Help,” the man gasped out as his legs finally gave out and he fell face first onto the ground. 

“Holy shit,” Dean gasped as he raced forward. 

Blood was everywhere, Dean didn’t even know how this man was still alive, every inch of his body seemed to be covered in red. He dropped his rifle as he skidded to a stop on the ground beside the man. Dean’s fingers skated over his chest as he tried to assess the wounds. There were distinguishable claw marks across his chest that Dean could easily say were caused by a black bear, but, deep as they were, the claw marks weren’t Dean’s main concern, it was the gushing wound to his lower abdomen that had Dean worried. The shape and size of the wound told Dean that it was caused by a 50 caliber sniper rifle.

_ What the hell? _

His instincts quickly had him checking the forest around him to see if anyone had followed this man, but the forest was quiet. He turned his focus back to the stranger and quickly stripped of his shirt, which he balled up and pressed against the bullet wound. He knew he had to move him inside, wild animals would be able to smell the blood if he stayed outside -and Dean wasn’t exactly keen on meeting any wildlife tonight- but he also knew that he shouldn’t move him until at least some of the bleeding had stopped, that is if he didn’t die first. Dean still didn’t understand how he was alive. Hardly anyone ever survives a bear attack and to be shot on top of that, with that kind of sniper rifle, was an instant ticket to death. 

As he continued to do his best in staunching the flow of blood, questions kept bubbling in his mind. Was he in a hunting accident? How did he get out here and how far had he come? Dean surely would have heard a gunshot if he’d been shot close by, but how had he survived long enough to keep walking? 

Nothing made sense. 

As the sun began to fade and the last streaks of dusk disappeared in the sky, Dean knew that he had to risk moving the man, they couldn’t stay outside any longer. With a grunt, he moved his arms under the bleeding body in front of him and hoisted him up. The stranger’s head lolled limply against his shoulder and Dean groaned slightly under his weight but managed to reach the cabin’s door without falling over. 

Once inside he set the man down on his bed and continued to apply pressure to his wounds. His shirt was already soaked through with blood and the stranger’s face was so pale that Dean was fairly certain his efforts were going to be in vain, but he was not about to let the man die without trying to save him, he was taught better than that.

His father was a marine and he raised Dean and his brother to be able to tend to a variety of wounds as well as proper training in all firearms. His father always said, ‘if you can do something, never leave a man to die’, and so that’s what Dean was doing. 

As Dean dug through his duffel bag with a blood soaked hand to retrieve another shirt, the man stirred under him and Dean started in surprise. “Holy shit, man.”

Now that Dean was up close to the man he could see the color of his eyes, and though they were bloodshot and blurry, Dean was taken aback by how  _ blue  _ they were; like two sapphires glowing under the lamplight of a miner. 

The man tried to sit up, but blood oozed steadily from his chest when he tried. “Woah there buddy, take it easy.” 

“I- I have to go,” he grunted in a hoarse voice. 

“You’re not going anywhere like this,” Dean warned as the man again tried to sit up. Dean pushed him back down, which caused him to wince. “Dude, seriously, stay still or you’ll kill yourself before I even have a chance to try to help you. I just need to get this bleeding to stop and then I’ll call someone, okay?” 

Fear flooded the man’s face and Dean could’ve sworn he felt it pulsate through his body. “No, you can’t, you can’t call anyone. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.” 

He repeated those two words like a mantra until the pain dragged him under again and Dean was left as confused as ever. This man clearly wasn’t in his right mind, he should call someone regardless, right? But the fear in his voice was the only thing stopping Dean because, even in this state, he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. 

Dean shook his head and decided to focus on keeping the man alive before he made any moves to call someone. While keeping one hand firmly pressed on the shirt against the bullet wound to the stranger's abdomen, he began to try to work off the man’s shirt so he could assess his other injuries. It took him a while, but he finally managed to get the shirt off which exposed the deep claw marks that were steadily gushing blood and began to apply pressure to the claw marks as well as the bullet wound. 

The man’s face was starting to pale considerably and Dean knew that just applying pressure was not going to be enough. Moving quickly, he stood, lit a few lanterns, and then headed over to the small fireplace, where he carefully set a few logs down and lit a collection of dried sticks and birch bark. The flames caught immediately and Dean poked at it with the end of a knife, trying to stir up some hot coals. 

While he waited for the fire to burn just a little bit more, Dean grabbed a pail of fresh water and snatched the first aid kit from a cabinet. When he sunk back down beside the man, he noticed that he’d grown even more pale and his breathing was starting to slow. 

“Fuck,” Dean hissed as he peeled away the shirts to reveal the angry wounds underneath. He grabbed yet another shirt from his bag and drenched that one in water. Carefully, he dabbed at the bullet wound -which had been a through through, there was no bullet in sight- cleaning around it where some dirt and other grime had gathered, before doing the same to the claw marks. The first aid kit had some antiseptic and he quickly applied it to the bullet wound, which was still bleeding more than the claw marks.

He couldn’t wait for the fire any longer, if he did the man would surely die. The wound was as clean as it was going to get, so he picked up his knife again and dipped it into the coals. The metal turned red under the heat and he quickly moved back over to the dying man and braced a hand on his chest. “Sorry man, this is gonna hurt like a mother when you wake up.” 

Carefully, he pressed the hot part of the knife against the wound and winced as the sound of burning flesh filled the air. He wrinkled his nose at the smell but kept the blade still for a moment longer before he pulled it away. For the most part, the fire had helped seal the wound but it still leaked at the edges and so Dean went back to the fire and applied the heat again until the wound was an angry red mound of burnt flesh. He rinsed the wound again with another douse of water and then turned his attention to the claw marks. 

The first aid kit was a good one, Dean had made sure of that when he decided to come into the middle of nowhere, and so there was a needle and thread. He sterilized the needle and then threaded it before dabbing at the claw marks again with antiseptic. 

“Alright buddy, I really hope the pain keeps you out,” he said as he lined up the needle with the first claw mark. With a deep breath, he began to work. 

Dean was by no means good at sewing, but he did the job, and thankfully the man stayed passed out the whole time, save for a few grunts and flinches from his reflexes. After Dean pulled the last stitch through and tied it off, he wrapped both wounds in gauze and medical tape. He put more logs on the fire and heated up some water, which he then used to make a cup of tea for himself and to wet a clean washcloth that he’d been able to find. 

Armed with his tea, the bucket of warm water, and the washcloth, he made his way back over to the blue-eyed stranger where he sat down beside him and began to work at the dirt that caked his face and hair. It wasn’t long before one side of the washcloth was completely dirty and he had to switch to the other. 

He hummed quietly to himself as he worked, carefully dampening the clumps of dirt and blood in his hair before pulling them out. Once he’d done what he could with the man’s dark and unruly hair, he picked up a clean bath towel and then soaked it fully in water before beginning to work on cleaning the man’s arms and upper body around the wounds. He stripped the man of his muddy and torn pants and gave his legs the same sponge bath treatment as he had the rest of his body. He dug in his bag for a pair of old sweatpants and carefully dressed the stranger, making sure not to move him that much so he could keep the wounds in place. 

While he worked, his eyes couldn’t help but roam over the stark expanse of this man's chest where he noticed a series of other wounds that he hadn’t seen before. These were healed and were nothing but scar tissue, but Dean recognized a bullet wound scar on his shoulder and there were also more recent scabs on his shoulders from something that could only be a knife.

_ Who the fuck was this guy? Did he just save a secret agent or an assassin or something? Normal civilians didn’t have these kinds of wounds, although he could be a war vet. _

Shaking his head, Dean continued working to clean off the man as best he could. Now that he wasn’t racing to save the man’s life, he could finally take him in at full. Even covered in a considerable amount of stubble, the man’s jawline looked firm and sharp, and although he appeared slightly malnourished, Dean could see the outline of someone who had once been physically active. It was also then that he noticed that there was something dimly glinting in the lanter-light on the man’s ring finger. Dean moved his towel over the ring and with a little polishing it shined brightly. He frowned at the wedding ring.

_ So he’s married _ . _ His poor wife must be worried sick about him.  _

“Fuck, I should really call someone,” he muttered. But he made no move towards the satellite phone, the man's plea not to do just that still rang in his ears.

Now that his tea had cooled enough, he sipped at it slowly and watched the careful rise and fall of the mystery man’s chest. Dean didn’t know if he’d wake up. It was possible that the trauma he’d sustained might keep him asleep until he dies, but Dean had hope, this man looked strong and he’d managed to drag himself back to consciousness once before, it was possible he could do it again. 

As the night creatures started to appear, with frogs croaking and owls hooting, Dean began to think about what he was going to do about the severely wounded man lying unconscious on his bed. He knew that the only way that the guy was getting out of this cabin was by an air evac, there was absolutely no way in hell that Dean would be able to carry him five miles to his car without making the wounds reopen; he’d die before Dean could reach a hospital. 

He sighed. The man seemed stable for now, so Dean was content to wait and see if he woke up so that he could try to ascertain some answers out of him. 

With a yawn, Dean laid out a few blankets on the ground and settled down to get some rest. The past two hours of his life had been tiring and he was exhausted, and so it didn’t take long for him to nod off. 

****

Dean woke to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight bearing down on him. Two days. That’s how long it had been since the stranger had passed out in front of him, and Dean was starting to worry that he might not wake up, despite the fact that he was doing everything he could to sterilize the wounds and keep the man clean and comfortable. With each passing day he was starting to think about calling someone, but he decided that he would wait until at least day three or four.

With a sigh, Dean groaned, the floor had not been treating him well these past few days. As he shifted on the ground and looked over at the man still occupying his lumpy mattress he didn’t expect to see a pair of blue eyes staring at him. 

“Shit, man!” Dean exclaimed in surprise. “How long have you been awake?” 

“Not long,” the man croaked. 

“Fuck, hang on let me get you some water.” Dean scrambled to his feet and found a cup which he dunked into a bucket of water. “Here,” he said as he held it out for the man. The stranger tried to reach for it but he let out a hiss of pain at the movement. “It’s okay, I’ll help,” Dean said kindly as he sat down beside him and pressed the cup to his lips. The man drank eagerly, but Dean cut him off after half the cup was drained. “Not too much, we don’t want you puking everywhere if you drink too much.” The man managed a feeble nod and let his head fall back on a pillow. Dean could see his discomfort and the careful way his chest rose and fell as he controlled his breathing. “I don’t think I have much for the pain, but I know I have Advil around here somewhere, so that’s something.” 

“Thank you,” the man croaked. 

“Yeah, but we should get a little bit of food in you before you take anything. I’ve got some canned chicken soup I can heat up if that tickles your fancy.”

“Anything sounds wonderful.” 

Dean nodded and went to find the soup, which he then cracked open and poured into a pot. The fire he’d been setting every night before he went to bed had burnt out so Dean relit it, even though he knew that a fire during the day inside was not ideal, but he didn’t want to sit outside while the man sat alone inside. 

“So, uh, I’m Dean, by the way,” he said as he stirred the soup. 

The man’s reply came through gritted teeth. “Castiel.” 

“That’s an interesting name,” Dean commented. 

“Most people just call me Cas.” 

“Cas it is then,” Dean said with a smile. 

“Thank you for helping me, you saved my life, you didn’t have to.” 

“Well I wasn’t just gonna do nothing,” Dean replied. He stirred the soup again and then paused with a sigh. “Look man, are you sure you don’t want me to call someone? You need a hospital.” 

“No,” Cas replied, his tone was stern and it only made Dean’s curiosity spike. 

“Dude, seriously, why not?” 

“I’m in a bit of a situation.” 

“No shit, you nearly died.” 

“Yes, but that’s not what I was referring to. Let me make it simple for you, if you call anyone, they will peg me right away and most likely kill you on sight.”

Dean nearly dropped the spoon into the fire as he gawked at Castiel. “Dude what the fuck? Are you some kind of wanted criminal or something?” 

“If I was, would that be a problem?” 

“Uh, no.” It wasn’t a problem, it wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that Dean was now slightly scared that Castiel, if that even was his real name, would kill him in his sleep.

Castiel stared at him for a second too long before he broke into a smile. “You can relax, I’m not a criminal.” 

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” Dean said as he returned to stirring the soup. 

When silence had stretched between them for too long and the soup was steaming and bubbling under the heat, Dean poured it into a bowl and then offered it to Castiel. 

“Thank you.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” he said as he sat down on the makeshift bed he’d made himself last night. As Castiel took his first bite, wincing at the movement it took to get the spoon to his mouth, Dean gestured to the ring on Cas’ hand. “So, who’s the lucky lady?” 

Castiel swallowed and then lifted his hand to look at the ring, sadness tinged his eyes. “If you’re hellbent on using the term ‘lucky’ then it was a lucky  _ lad _ .” 

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline in surprise. “Oh, I see.” 

“That’s not a problem either, is it?” Castiel asked warily. 

Dean smiled at him and shook his head. “Nah man, I’m bisexual myself.” Castiel seemed relieved as he took a small spoonful of soup. Dean licked his lips and then fixed his gaze back on the blue-eyed man. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but you said ‘was’, so is he not in the picture anymore or-” 

“He’s dead,” Castiel cut in bluntly. There was a slight tremor to his words which was quickly masked by another spoonful of soup. 

_ Well shit. Good going, Dean, the man’s in enough pain already and you had to go remind him of his dead husband.  _

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“Thank you,” Castiel said, his eyes suddenly turning glassy. “You’re the first person to have said that to me.”

“You need some new friends, then.” 

“I didn’t have friends to begin with.”

“Now that can’t be true.” 

“It is, unfortunately, quite true.”

“Naw man, a guy like you can’t seriously be friendless.” 

Castiel canted his head to the side and Dean kind of found it endearing. “A guy like me?” 

“Well, when I was, uh, saving your life, I saw that you’ve got a lot of scars and stuff. A guy like you has got to have plenty of stories, guys with stories aren’t usually lacking in the friend department.” 

Castiel sighed and set down his bowl, shifting slightly on the bed. “You’re correct. I had friends, up until four months ago.” 

“You know I have to ask what happened, right? I mean you show up on my doorstep covered in blood and a bullet wound, I’ve been sitting on my curiosity since you arrived.” 

“I’m surprised you’ve held out this long.” 

“Well you were kind of unconscious, the conversation would have been very one sided.”

That earned a smile from Castiel and Dean grinned in return.

“I can’t tell you.” 

Dean nodded. “Right, because then you’d have to kill me.”

“No, because the less you know the better. It’s for your safety.” 

“I’m a grown man, Cas. But, if  _ you’re  _ worried about my safety then you must be a secret government agent or something, right?”

“Dean,” Castiel warned. “Don’t push it. You really don’t want to know.” 

“No, I really really  _ do  _ want to know.” 

“Well that really sucks for you, doesn’t it?” Castiel quickly rushed to change the topic. “Thank you for the soup, I think I’ll take some of the Advil now.” 

Dean sighed. “Fine.” 

He shook a pill onto Cas’ hand and handed him the rest of his water. “It’s my turn to ask you a question,” Castiel said once he’d swallowed two pills. 

“Well, I might have an answer for you, or I might keep things ominous,” Dean retorted with a small smirk. 

“That’s fair,” Castiel replied. 

“So, shoot.” 

“I can see that you clearly knew what to do concerning my injuries, you even cauterized one of my wounds, I want to ask where you learned those skills.” 

Dean clicked his tongue and waved a finger at Cas. “Now, now, now, Cas, you have your secrets, I have mine. But, tell ya what, I’ll trade you an answer for an answer.” 

Castiel seemed to ponder that for a moment. “Alright, fine, but I’m not telling you if I’m a secret agent or anything like that, you can ask simple questions, nothing more.”

Dean sighed. “Okay, whatever, but the same goes for you. So, first question, what was your husband's name?” 

A soft smile fell onto Cas’ lips. “Inias. He was… he was wonderful, and kind. I miss him more with each passing day.” 

“Is that why you kept the ring on?” 

Castiel shook his head. “No, there were… circumstances... that happened around Inias’ death, which rendered me incapable of worrying about such a thing as my recent title of widower.” 

With an answer like that, Dean’s curiosity was not going to go anywhere any time soon. Castiel was an enigma, and he planned to piece together as much of the puzzle as he could while Castiel was a guest in his cabin. 

“It’s my turn,” Castiel said. 

“Yeah okay, go for it.” 

“Why are you out here?” 

Dean was taken aback by the simplicity of the question and he scratched at the back of his head absentmindedly. “Well, I’m, uh, I’m a writer, and I came out here to, I dunno, find inspiration or something. It’s stupid, I know. But my apartment building was too noisy for me to concentrate in, and I’ve always liked nature, so I just thought, what the hell.”

“It’s not stupid,” Castiel said sincerely. “I think that it’s rather brave, coming out here alone.” 

Dean almost blushed at the compliment, almost. “Yeah well my brother thought I was going to get myself killed, still does.” 

“So you have a brother?” 

Dean smiled as he thought about his brother. “Yeah, his name’s Sam. He’s four years younger than me, but you’d never think it, the guy’s a fucking giant.” 

“I have a brother too, Gabriel, but I haven’t spoken to him in years.” 

“That’s too bad.” 

“Yeah, we just went our separate ways, I suppose if I live through this, I’ll probably try to reconnect with him.” 

“You should, there’s nothing more important than family.” 

Castiel winced as he nodded. He looked tired, drained, and that was only to be expected, the guy had been through quite a trauma. 

“Look man, you should get some more rest. I don’t want to end up talking you to death.” 

Castiel let out a sigh. “I am rather tired.”

“You look it,” Dean agreed. “I should just change your bandages first, if you don’t mind.” 

“You’ve been doing it for…” 

“Two days,” Dean interjected. 

“Two days,” Castiel repeated. “I don’t think I have much left to be modest about.” 

“Touche,” Dean replied with a small laugh. 

He pulled the first aid kit over to the bed and Castiel lowered the blanket so Dean could access his wounds. Dean was careful when he pulled off the bandages, but Castiel still let out a hiss of pain. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.”

Dean pulled a bottle of rubbing alcohol out of the first aid kit and then hovered over the first set of claw marks. “This is going to sting.” Castiel nodded and Dean began to dab at the wound with careful movements. Apart from the stiffness of Castiel’s shoulders and the breath of air he drew in through his teeth, he didn’t make a sound. Dean finished cleaning the wounds and then wrapped them up in fresh bandages. “Well, you’re done.”

Castiel nodded his thanks. “May I have some more water?” 

“Sure thing.” 

Dean fetched Castiel another cup of water and watched as he downed it all and then settled back on the bed, letting his eyes fall shut. He fell asleep quickly, the escape from pain probably drawing him away. 

Dean still didn’t know what to think of the guy, he was no closer to understanding who he was and what he was doing here, but he knew that pushing for answers probably wouldn’t turn out very well, and so he decided to let him sleep. Taking one last look at Castiel, Dean sighed and then decided to get a few things done around the cottage, like deal with the dishes that had been piling up for days. For now, the man on his bed would continue to remain a mystery. 


	2. Till Death Do Us Part

_ ***Five Months Earlier*** _

“Inias, please, I’m trying to work,” Castiel protested as Inias kissed at his neck, murmuring soft words against his skin. 

“Oh come on, babe,” Inias begged. “I just got home and I’m dying to blow off a little steam.” 

“Didn’t you blow off steam at your job?” Castiel asked as he marked an answer wrong on one of his students' tests. 

“Not in the way I wanted to,” Inias replied. 

Castiel sighed. He wished he could indulge his husband, but… “I’m supposed to have these tests given back tomorrow and I’m only halfway done, I don’t have time.”

Inias pouted at him. “Can’t you just tell your students that you got a little behind and you’ll give them back the next day?” 

“I’ve already put off grading long enough, I technically should have had these done a week ago.” Inias groaned and Cas turned towards him with an apologetic look. “Maybe tomorrow night?” he offered hopefully. 

“Tomorrow night, I have a banquet I’m supposed to attend,” Inias replied. 

“Tomorrow morning? Before I have to leave for work?” 

Inias grinned at him and pulled him in for a kiss. “You’re on.” 

His husband left him to his work and Castiel let out a sigh, with both their jobs it was a wonder that they ever actually had time for each other. 

By the time Castiel settled down in bed beside Inias, it was after eleven. Inias was still up, always claiming that he could never sleep until Cas was by his side. 

“All done grading?” Inias asked as he set aside the book he’d been reading. 

Castiel yawned as he climbed under the covers. “Yes, finally.”

Inias smiled at him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Good.” 

Cas reached to switch off the lamp on his bedside table and then let himself find Inias’ body in the dark. “How was work today?” 

“Cas, baby, you know I can’t talk about it. I’m sworn to government secrecy.” 

“I am too, in a way, I had to be when I married you,” Cas rebuked. 

“Yes, but I still can’t divulge certain things to you, and what I did today is one of those things.” 

Cas pouted at him in the dark, but didn’t say another word about it as he rested his head against his husband’s chest. 

“However, I do have to tell you that in a week I’m needed to take a trip to Korea.” 

“Is everything okay?” Cas asked, suddenly concerned. Inias never went overseas unless it was important. 

“We can hope, but we won’t know until we get there, that’s why I need to go.” Inias kissed the top of his head and let his hand thread through Cas’ hair. “You don’t need to be worried about anything, okay? I’m going to make sure you stay safe.” 

“I’m not worried,” Cas mumbled tiredly as he started to doze. 

“I love you,” Inias whispered gently in his ear.

“I love you too,” Cas replied. 

****

Cas hardly even noticed the school bell telling him that he could finally appease his growling stomach with some lunch, but his students were more than happy to remind him with how quickly they left his classroom. All except one student, who was hovering at his desk. 

“Yes, Amy? Is there something I can help you with?” 

“Uh yeah, I was wondering if there are any extra credit assignments that I can do, since I didn’t do too well on the test. I really don’t want it to affect my grade.” 

“Amy, you have an A in this class, one bad test grade will have very minimal effects on your overall grade.”

Amy shook her head slightly. “No, Mr. Novak, you… you don’t understand, I can’t bring this test grade home to my mother, she’ll skin me alive. But if… if I have something else to work on to make up for it, she might go a little easier on me.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head to the side. “Amy, do you feel safe at home?” 

Amy only hesitated for a second but it was enough for Cas to know that what was about to come out of her mouth was most likely a lie. “I- yeah, most of the time. I mean it’s just my Mom and me, and she’s really adamant that I do well in school.” 

“I see,” Castiel said through a hum. He folded his hands in front of him on the desk and fixed Amy with a leveling look. “Amy, you can tell your mother that if she has a problem with your grade in this class that she can take it up with me.” 

Amy nodded shakily. “O-okay Mr. Novak, thank you.” 

Castiel watched her go, making a mental note to keep an eye on her. Since Amy hadn’t admitted anything to him, he couldn’t go to the front office and put in his concerns, but, if she was living in an abusive home, there would be telltale signs and Castiel was determined to look out for her. 

Once Amy had left, Castiel pulled out his lunch and ate while he looked over his lesson plan for the next class. As a world History teacher, there was always a lot to cover, and some of his classes were just slightly ahead of others, so he had to make separate power points instead of using the same one. It was tedious and annoying, but that was the joy of being a teacher. 

As he was finishing off his apple, his phone buzzed on his desk and Inias’ name popped up on the lock screen. 

**_Inias sent [12:11 P.M.]_ ** _ Hey babe, just wanted to let you know that I probably won’t be home when you get home and the banquet is going to go past midnight.  _

**_You sent [12:11 P.M.]_ ** _ Okay, be safe and wake me when you get home, I don’t care how late you are.  _

**_Inias sent [12:12 P.M.]_ ** _ Of course. I love you, honey bee. _

**_You sent [12:12 P.M.]_ ** _ I love you too <3 _

Cas smiled to himself as he set his phone back down and tossed his apple core into the trash. With his lunch finished, he turned his full attention to his lesson plan while he waited for the bell to bring his next class to him. It was always after lunch that Cas really started counting down the hours until he was allowed to leave. He loved his job, but it was filled with long hard days, and more often than not he went home sporting a pretty fierce headache. 

As the day wore out and his last class ended, he began to pack up his laptop and notes just as there was a knock on his classroom door and his coworker Anna came into the room.

“Hey, Castiel,” she greeted him. 

“Anna,” Castiel replied with a nod. “What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you had anything written down from the last faculty meeting, I wasn’t able to make it.” 

Castiel bent to search through his briefcase. “I’m sure I do, but if I can recall correctly there wasn’t anything of import mentioned.”

“I just want to cover all my bases.” 

“Yes of course,” Castiel said as he procured his yellow notebook from his bag and handed it to Anna. “There you are.”

Anna took it with a smile. “Thank you.” One quick snap of her cell phone camera later and Castiel was slipping the notebook back into the confines of his briefcase. He finished packing up while Anna hovered nearby. “So, how’s the husband?” she asked eventually. 

“He’s well. Very busy with work.” 

“What is it he does again?” 

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say,” he replied as he snapped the buckles on his bag shut. 

“How mysterious,” Anna said with a small smirk. 

“Yes, Inias is certainly that. Now, if you’d excuse me, I need to get home.” Anna let Castiel move past her and he headed out to the parking lot to his Mark V Continental. 

When he got home he started to plan his lesson for tomorrow and then made himself a sad dinner of box macaroni and cheese, watched a documentary about bees, and then headed up to bed. 

Inias came home at three A.M., waking Castiel with a soft kiss and a whisper of, “hi, honey bee, I’m home.” 

“Hello,” Castiel replied sleepily. “How was the banquet?” 

“Boring and loud,” Inias replied. “But I met the President, so that was interesting.”

“Oh?” Castiel asked. 

“Yes, President Roman sends his regards.” 

Castiel nearly sat up in bed in surprise. “You told  _ President Roman _ … about…  _ me _ ?” 

“Well he asked about my wedding ring, so yes, you came up.” 

“I suppose you can’t tell me what allowed for you to meet the President.” 

“Afraid not,” Inias replied. He kissed Castiel again and then gave his hand a squeeze under the covers. “Go back to sleep my love.” 

With a happy sigh, knowing his husband was home safe, Castiel settled back in bed and drifted off to sleep.

****

“Again,” Inias instructed. 

“I’ve shown you three times already,” Castiel complained. 

Inias’ hands slipped around Cas’ hips and he hooked his chin over his shoulder where he then kissed his neck. “I know, but just humor me.”

Castiel sighed and Inias stepped away while he reloaded the gun in his hand. They were at the closest firing range to their house, which was about fifteen minutes away, and Inias had insisted that Cas practice shooting so that he knew he could keep himself safe while Inias was overseas. 

When they’d first started dating, seven years ago, Inias had taken Cas to the range for fun, but once they’d gotten married, two years later, he’d made a regular thing out of it, always insisting that he needed to know that Cas could defend himself. Now that he’d spent so much time there, Cas was more than an excellent shot, but Inias still worried, and so Cas stepped back up to the edge of the firing range and lined up his shot. The pistol bucked under his fingers but he kept his hands steady and the bullets went straight into the center of the target. 

“See?” Castiel said as he clicked on the safety, set down the gun, and pulled off his earmuffs. He turned to face his husband.

Inias nodded. “Yes. Okay.” 

“Are you satisfied now?” 

“I suppose I’ll have to be.” 

Cas took Inias’ hand and pulled him close. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry.” 

“I know you will be. It’s just that my job is dangerous, and I meet dangerous people, and if any of them trace their way back to you, I just want to make sure I’ve covered all my bases.” 

“You have, and I haven’t been training with you for nothing. I can fight.” 

Inias nodded and kissed him softly. “I know.” 

“Shall we get home then? So we can soak up our last few hours with each other before your flight.” 

“Yes, let’s go.” 

****

Castiel was busy writing up his latest lesson on World War Two, when Inias knocked on his office door, suitcase trailing behind him. “I’m about to leave.” 

Cas spun around in his chair, taking in the sharp suit his husband was wearing. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport?” 

“You can’t, you know that.”

Cas sighed. “Yeah, I know, but it was worth a shot.” 

Inias reached into his pocket and pulled out a memory stick which he handed to Cas. “Plug this into the computer.” 

“Why?” Cas asked skeptically as he took the stick from his husband. 

“It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution for what?” 

“It’s nothing to worry about, I promise. It’s just in case something goes wrong, which it won’t,” Inias reassured him as Cas felt worry start to spring into his stomach. “It’s a direct link to me, which will also allow me to send files I’ve downloaded for this job to keep saved in case I’m detained so that if anything I’ve managed to find is destroyed, there is a back up. But those files have a password lock on them, a password that you’ll only need if you receive the message telling you I haven’t reset the memory stick’s info within twenty-four hours.” 

Cas stared at Inias, the worry that had momentarily been appeased was back. Inias stepped closer to him and slid to his knees in front of Cas, taking both his hands and fixing him with his concerned gaze. 

“If that happens, Cas, baby, I’m sorry but that means I’m either detained and imprisoned somewhere, or I’m dead. If that’s the case, I’ve hidden the password to the folder files in our special box. You should read it, commit it to memory and then burn it. You’ll also have to hide the memory stick somewhere safe, I know you’ll think of someplace clever. You cannot let the government have it, whatever I put on it is not for their eyes, okay?” 

Cas nodded. “Okay.” 

“I hate to ask this of you, but you’re the only one I can trust. But it’s going to be okay, that’s  _ not  _ going to happen,” he said sternly, squeezing Cas’ hands for extra emphasis. “I’m coming back to you. I promise.” 

“You better,” Cas warned. His voice was shaking now and it was taking everything in him not to cry. Inias’ job was dangerous, there was always a risk when he went out, but this trip sounded a lot more dangerous than anything he’d done in the past, at least since Castiel had known him. 

“But if I don’t,” Inias began. Castiel glared at him, eyes narrowing at where this was going. “If I don’t, you have to promise me that you’ll be okay, that you’ll move on.” 

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do that.” 

“You have to, honey bee, you have to, please. I don’t want you to be alone.” 

Just thinking about the prospect of life without Inias was making his chest hurt, but he nodded slowly. “I’ll try my best.”

“Good, good.” Inias rested his forehead against Cas’ and then kissed him slowly. 

Castiel relished in the kiss, hoping it would never end. His hands roamed over his husband's body, memorizing every muscle, every line. When they broke apart for air, Castiel cupped Inias’ face and kissed his nose, which was something that they had started doing within a month of dating. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Inias replied softly. They kissed again and then Inias stood up and Cas joined him. “It’s time for me to go, just remember to keep that memory stick safe, okay?” 

Cas reached out and pulled Inias closer to him by the cuff of his jacket. “Wait, just… answer me something, and answer with complete honesty.”

“What is it?” 

“Am I in any kind of danger?” 

Inias faltered slightly as he tugged Cas into a hug, wrapping his arms around him protectively. “You asked for honesty, so I will be honest with you. Yes, you are in some form of danger, especially if I am caught or killed on this mission; but you always were, since the moment you met me.” 

Cas nodded against Inias’ chest, resolve hardening his body. “Okay.” 

Inias pulled away by an inch so he could look at Cas. “Okay?” 

“Okay,” Cas repeated. “I just wanted to know for sure.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Inias promised. “And so am I.” 

Cas smiled, forcing the tears back even though they still wanted to roll from his eyes. “I know you will be. Please call me when you land.” 

“Of course.” 

Cas kissed him again and then followed Inias down the stairs and to the front door. “Bye, have a safe trip.” 

“I will, and don’t let those teenagers get to you.” 

Cas smiled. “I won’t.” As Inias turned to head towards the car Cas called after him. “Love you!” 

“Love you too!” Inias called back with a smile and a wave as he unlocked the car. 

Castiel stood on the front step and watched his husband drive away, hoping that everything would go smoothly overseas and he’d return home safe and sound. 

_ ****Two Weeks Later*** _

“I’m telling you, she totally has a thing for you,” Anna said as she sat beside him at the teachers lunch table. 

He and Anna were on lunch duty, watching the students, making sure they didn’t start any food fights or anything of the sort, and Anna had been talking his ear off about the English teacher that worked down the hall from Castiel since they’d sat down.

“Hannah cannot possibly have a ‘thing’ for me. She knows I’m married.” 

“Since when has marriage ever stopped someone from chasing a little bit of lust?” Anna asked innocently as she bit into her ham and cheese sandwich. 

“Well it’s certainly stopped me and I intend to keep it that way,” Castiel replied curtly. 

“Tell that to Hannah.” 

“I will if she ever tries to approach me in any way that is not that of a co worker.” 

“So, Inias is on a business trip?” she asked, moving to change the topic as she popped a grape in her mouth. 

“Yes.” 

“Where?” 

“Overseas,” Cas replied simply.

“Will he be gone long?” 

“He’s already been gone for two weeks, I expect it’ll be another two or three until he comes home.” 

“Wow, that’s a long time.” 

“Too long,” Cas agreed. 

They finished their lunch in relative silence, keeping a watchful eye over their students as they did so.

The rest of the day went by slowly. His last period class was rowdy and rambunctious and he had to raise his voice five separate times just to get them to listen to him. Teaching High School students was not as glamorous as some people made it out to be. 

When his students finally left to the glorious sound of the bell, Castiel didn’t waste any time in getting out of the building. It was a Friday, and he had no plans to stick around at the school when a TV waited for him at home. The drive was quick, mindless, and soon he was pulling into the driveway.

He shrugged out of his trench coat and then headed up the stairs. Cas still wasn’t used to the emptiness that the house oozed when Inias wasn’t home and the cold side of the bed at night always left him with shivers, but he told himself Inias would be home soon and that was usually enough to make himself feel better. 

As he sat down at his computer, he realized that the screen was flashing with a message and his stomach dropped. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” he muttered, tears already biting at the back of his eyes. “No, please no.” 

The message was asking him to press play to a video file and it took him a good two minutes before he managed to get his arms to work. With shaking hands, he clicked the  _ play _ button and Inias’ face appeared in front of him. 

“Cas,” Inias whispered, tears in his eyes. Castiel could see that he was sheltering behind some kind of wall and the sound of gunshots in the background made Cas’ heart thunder in his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby. I know I promised, I know, but I don’t think I’m going to make it. Just remember what I told you, remember what you need to do and do it now. Cas it’s important, you need to be the only one who can access what I’m sending you. So go, don’t wait.” 

“Hey!” A sharp voice shouted from behind Inias. A soldier came into view but Inias didn’t turn around. 

“I love you, I always will.” The video ended just as the soldier took a step towards Inias and Cas was left to stare at the computer screen in terror. 

_ Maybe he’s not dead. _ Was Castiel’s first thought. He didn’t actually see Inias die, he could be detained or captured, but he could still be alive.  _ Unless he’s not _ . His brain helpfully supplied.  _ He has to be _ .

The computer beeped again with a message telling him that there were files being downloaded onto the flash drive and they would be complete in about five minutes. Cas stood up from the computer, fear still held him tight but he knew that he had a job to do. He made his way to the bedroom and reached under the bed to find the special shoe box that he and Inias kept their keepsakes in. 

There were ticket stubs from movies, Polaroids from their dates, trinkets they’d picked up on their travels, and so on. But on top of all that, Cas spotted a blue sticky note that definitely hadn’t been there before. Scrawled across it in Inias’ slanted handwriting was the password he’d need to access the files in the flash drive,  _ if  _ he had to access them, because Inias might not be dead, he could be totally fine. 

Cas smiled softly at the two words scribbled on the sticky note.  _ Of course _ . He thought.  _ Makes sense. _

With unsteady steps he moved down the stairs to the fireplace, where he struck a match and then burned the note to ash. Once all evidence that the note had even existed in the first place was gone, he moved back upstairs to where the download bar was still making progress across the screen. 

_ 96% Complete.  _ It told him. 

As the last four percent slid to completion, Castiel began to think about where he was going to hide the stick. It had to be somewhere that only he and Inias would think to go. His first rational thought was their lock box in the bank, but if anyone wanted access to that in Inias’ line of work it was all too easy. No, it had to be somewhere discrete. 

When the computer beeped at him one last time, altering him to the fact that the download was done, Cas quickly ejected the flash drive and then headed back into the bedroom to try to find something that he could put the memory stick in so that it wouldn’t be damaged. He found an old ring box and put the memory stick in a plastic bag before rolling it up and placing it in the ring box which he also covered in a plastic bag.

Pocketing it, he practically sprinted down the stairs and out the door, not even bothering to put on his trench coat. Inias had told him to hide it right away, and so that was what he was going to do. He barely remembered to buckle his seat belt as he started the car and peeled out of the driveway. 

There was only one place he could think of that would work as a hiding place. The park where he and Inias first met. It was about a twenty minute drive away, but Cas made it in ten. The park was bustling with people and so he easily slipped into the crowd where he squared his shoulders and tried to relax, making it seem like he was just out for a walk on a beautiful day. He waved and smiled at people he passed until he reached the tree that he’d first met Inias behind. 

The tree was an oak and one of the oldest in the park. Cas sat down under it, pretending that he was just looking for a shady spot to relax, but instead he located the squirrel hole that had been there for as long as Castiel could remember, and he carefully pushed the ring box inside and then covered it up with dirt and leaves, concealing it from sight. 

He stayed there for another ten minutes, letting himself come down from the adrenaline high that he’d just taken a trip on. It was while he sat, knees pulled up to his chin, birds chirping around him, and bees going about their business pollinating flowers, that everything came crashing down around him. 

Inias was probably dead. 

He had just hidden something really important, something that the government couldn’t know about. 

He had no idea what he had just gotten himself into, but he knew that he himself might not even survive the outcome. 

He let the tears come fully now. Head dropping to his knees, shoulders shaking while the tree above him swayed in a soft breeze, reminding him of Inias’ breath on his skin, breath he would probably never feel again. 

When he’d cried himself out and he’d been sitting for long enough to no longer be suspicious, Cas stood up and headed slowly back to his car. He took the drive slow, letting his emotions sort themselves out. 

When he got home, he went straight upstairs to the empty confines of his bed. His and Inias’ wedding picture stared back at him from the nightstand and he felt fresh tears trying to break through the carefully constructed dam that he’d created in the car. He couldn’t afford to be emotional, he could be in danger.

Cas took a few deep breaths to pull himself together and then moved over to the closet to the safe where Inias kept the gun he’d bought for Cas when they were first married. He let the sleek exterior of the gun fill his hand where he checked the magazine and then made sure the safety was on before he placed it on his bedside table. 

Castiel went to bed that night wrapped in grief and fear. It was a miracle that he even managed to doze off, but his unrestful sleep didn’t last long. He was jerked awake by a loud crack and a thump. Steeling himself, Cas reached for his gun and cocked it. Heavy footsteps on the stairs made Cas slip from his bed towards the closet, where he’d be hidden when the door opened. 

“Mr. Novak!” A harsh voice shouted. “You’re surrounded, come out with your hands up.” 

“Why should I!?” Cas shouted back, he knew there was no point in keeping quiet, they knew he was home. 

Castiel’s question made his bedroom door pop off its hinges as it was kicked in. An armed man who looked like secret service spun to face Castiel, gun pointed at his chest. “I’ll repeat. We need you to come with us.” 

Castiel was already aiming his own gun at the man and he fixed him with a glare, even though he felt like he was going to pass out from terror. “What if I don’t?” 

“You can either come willingly, or we can forcibly subdue you.” 

“Where’s Inias?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Where is he!?”

“Your husband is dead,” the man replied blatantly. 

“No,” Cas whimpered. Hearing it confirmed felt like he’d just been stabbed through the heart. Anger burned through him and he started to take aim at the man in front of him. “You’re lying!” he screamed. “He can’t be dead, he can’t be!” Any hope he had been harboring started to slip away and his finger was one tap away from the trigger, ready to send a bullet towards the intruders in his house, when a loud bang sounded through the air and the gun fell from his hands as pain shot through his right shoulder. He dropped to the ground, blood spilling over his hand as he clutched at the wound. 

Through the ringing of his ears, Cas heard one of the men snap, “Sedate him.”

He saw a man in black step towards him, a needle in his hand and Cas tried to scramble away from him. “No, stay back! Stay back!” 

“If you cooperate with us, everything will work out just fine for you,” the man said. “Now hold still.” 

Castiel had run out of places to go, he’d backed himself into the corner of his bedroom and the man bent down beside him, needle held at the ready. “Get away from me!” Cas roared as he kicked out in panic. His foot made contact with the man’s knee but that didn’t stop him from sticking Castiel’s arm with the needle. 

Everything started to fade. His bedroom dropped away and the last thing he focused on was the smiling picture of him and Inias on their wedding day before something was slipped over his head and he let the drug in his system carry him to unconsciousness. 


	3. Touch and Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I managed to get this chapter done for y'all and I've snuck onto a hotspot so I could post it hehe. It's not a very interesting chapter and it's more of a filler than anything else. I apologize for any spelling or other errors in this chapter, I had to write it offline so I may not have caught all of them when I went through it before I posted. Please enjoy it anyway and I'll see y'all again when I can :)

Dean was always up early. He was never able to sleep well anyway (especially now that he was using the floor as his bed) but he had grown accustomed to going outside to watch the sunrise and drink in the morning air, and so that’s where he was when he heard his name being called. 

“Dean?” Castiel’s weakened voice asked. 

Dean stood from where he’d been sitting on a rock by the dead fire pit and headed inside. “What is it Cas?” 

“I… I don’t feel well.” 

Now that the cabin was bathed in sunlight, Dean could see the beads of sweat that were dotted across Castiel’s paled skin, his eyes were sunken and dull, and Dean felt dread suck at him.

“Shit,” Dean muttered, more to himself than to Cas. In a few quick strides Dean was beside him and he reached out to put the back of his hand against Cas’ forehead. It burned under his touch and he cursed again. “Yeah, I don’t need a thermometer to know you've got a fever. But we should see how bad it is.” He dug in the first aid kit for the thermometer and once he found it he moved it towards Cas’ mouth. “Alright open up.” Cas did as he was told and Dean stuck the thermometer under his tongue. 

When it beeped and Dean read the number on the stick he cursed for the third time. “That bad?” Cas asked, concerned. 

“It’s 102.7, which is a lot higher than I’m comfortable with. I don’t want to leave you here alone, but I think I’m going to need to head into town to get something to help with this fever.” 

“Dean,” Cas said after a pause. “I think I’m going to be sick.” 

“Shit,” Dean hissed as Cas started to gag. He barely managed to get a bucket under him in time before Cas was spilling liquid, and bits of the soup, into the pail. 

While Cas continued to puke into the bucket, Dean pulled the blanket away from his chest so he could look at the wounds underneath. The bullet wound looked fine, the cauterization was still red but the swelling had gone down, it was the claw marks that were angry and oozing puss. They were clearly infected.

“Fuck. Yeah, that settles it, I need to go to town.”

Dean began to pull things from his backpack so that he could make space for the items he’d be bringing back to the cabin, and then he moved a water pail closer to Cas so he could get a drink if he needed it and he set down a protein bar next to the pail.

“How long will you be gone?” Cas asked hoarsely. 

“Well, it usually takes me about an hour and a half to get to my car and another twenty minutes to get to town, but with the way I drive and how fast I can run, I’d say that I can easily shave off half an hour. I’ll hope to be back in three hours or so. Are you going to be okay until then?” 

Cas nodded meekly. “I hope so.” 

Dean patted down his pockets, looking for his keys but then spotted them on the floor by his duffel bag. He plucked them from the ground and then slung the empty backpack over his shoulder.

“Right, okay, don’t go dying on me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” With one last look at the sick, possibly dying, man on his bed, he headed out of the cabin at a light jog. 

Dean considered himself to be pretty fit, but the one thing he’d never enjoyed doing, was running. That’s not to say he wasn’t good at it, he was. He was fast and could run a mile in about seven minutes, that is when he wasn’t running through thick forestry and weaving around trees. There was a path to follow, the owner of the cabin had made sure of that, but it was still very dense and there were downed trees and thick roots littering the ground along the way. Nonetheless, Dean coped. He had to pause now and then to get his breath back, but he managed to make good time and reached the side road, that was harboring his beloved Impala, within forty minutes. 

Dean had to admit that at first he’d been quite skeptical to leave his car behind for so long, especially so far away from him where he would never know if someone had vandalized or stolen it, but he’d been wrong to worry. The area was so remote that hardly anyone ever came down the small side road that presumably led to nothing. That wasn’t to say that Dean hadn’t taken precautions to hide his car, he’d covered it with leafy branches and had made sure that anyone who might have strayed off the path wouldn’t be able to see it if they weren’t  _ looking  _ for it. 

Now, Dean pulled the branch coverings from around his car in rapid motions, eager to get on the road and back to Castiel as soon as he could. The branches fell away easily and he quickly unlocked the car and brought her to life with the turn of a key. She roared under Dean’s fingers and let out a rattling purr. 

“There’s my girl,” Dean said with a grin as he began to back out of the hiding spot that had become rather Impala-shaped over the past month. “Let’s go Baby, we’ve got a few errands to run.”

Once he was out onto the main road, Dean put his foot to the pedal and sent the Impala screeching across the pavement. He knew the area well enough by now to know that no one ever came out this far into the mountains so Dean was safe from the watchful eyes of cops, which in this case, was good. He didn’t have time to be pulled over, he needed to get to the nearest town as soon as possible. 

Baby devoured the road under her and Dean made what would have been a twenty minute drive, a ten minute one. He slowed down as he entered the small town that he had visited quite a lot in the recent month. His first stop was the small drug store. 

“Hey Dean!” Andy, the store clerk, greeted him. Being out of town and coming into the store every few weeks had raised people’s curiosity about him and so it now allowed for him to be on a first name basis with most workers.

“Andy, what’s shakin’?” Dean asked. 

“Nothin’ much, we’ve been a bit slow today.” 

“That’s too bad.”

“You’re early, aren’t you? You were only in here last week.” 

“Yeah, I was uh, realizing that I needed a few things. Like pain medication for one, what do you guys have here that isn’t prescription only?” 

“Are you okay?” Andy asked in concern. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just for emergencies.” Dean knew that it wasn’t wise to tell the townsfolk about Cas, they’d only ask questions, and insist that he get the man medical attention. 

“Okay then,” Andy replied. “Well, we’ve got your usual stuff. Tylenol, Aspirin, and Ibuprofen.” 

Dean nodded. “Great thanks.” 

He didn’t know how well any of those drugs would work to help the infection raging on inside Castiel’s body, but he knew it was going to be better than nothing. He picked up a basket and headed down the aisles, pulling bottles of pretty much anything that read ‘pain relief’ or ‘reduces fever’ into the basket. He placed some more soups and protein bars, as well as more bandages and antiseptic, into the basket and then let Andy ring him up. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Andy asked as he scanned the items. 

“I told you, I’m fine,” Dean replied as he rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet, anxious to leave. 

Andy eyed him skeptically. “Okay, whatever you say.” 

When Andy finished with his items, Dean pushed his credit card into the card reader and then scribbled something resembling his name onto the machine’s screen. “Thanks, Andy,” he said as he grabbed the plastic bag and headed outside. 

He paused for a moment to shove the bag into his backpack before he crossed the street and made his way into the clothing store. He was going to pick up a few fresh pairs of boxers and an assortment of pants and shirts that Cas could have for himself. 

Dean made quick time of it, only taking about ten minutes to find everything he needed. The store was relatively empty, only a few customers were there, and so he managed to make it back to his car having only been gone for twenty minutes. Another ten minutes later and he’d reached the path that would take him back to the cabin. 

He worked fast to get Baby as covered up as he could before he let his legs carry him off at a run. With the weight of his backpack he knew he was going to be slower and need to take more breaks, but he still managed to make it back to the cabin within an hour. 

When he burst into the cabin, out of breath and covered in sweat, Cas was exactly where he left him, except he was asleep. Dean dropped to the ground next to him and reached out to shake him awake. When Cas’ blue eyes popped open, feverish and cloudy, Dean held up the bottle of Tylenol he’d bought. 

“Brought ya something.” 

Castiel stared at him in shock. “Inias? Inias, is that you? I always knew you’d come back to me. I knew you’d keep your promise.” 

It only took Dean a second to pick up on what was happening. “Shit.” 

Castiel blinked at him in confusion. “What’s wrong? Everything’s okay, isn’t it? Inias tell me everything is okay?” 

Dean forced a smile to his lips as he shook out a pill and filled Cas’ water cup. “Yeah, Cas, everything’s fine. I just need you to take this pill, okay? It’ll help you feel better.” 

Castiel took the pill and the cup from his proffered hand and downed it. “Thank you,” he slurred as his head drooped against his pillow. 

“You just get some rest.”

Once Castiel had nodded off again, Dean began to work to clean his wounds. This was bad. If Cas was this confused, or if he was hallucinating, then the fever must have spiked by at least a degree while he was gone, and if it didn’t break soon, he’d have no choice but to call for help. Hopefully the Tylenol would work, but it was the infection he worried about. 

He dabbed at the claw marks with a clean towel and checked the stitches to make sure they were still holding together. The bullet wound was still looking the best out of all Castiel’s injuries and Dean was confident that it would heal fully within a few weeks. 

After he’d placed fresh bandages over the wounds, he sat back on his heels and watched Castiel’s chest rise and fall with his ragged breathing. Dean was concerned, to say the least. If Castiel continued on a downward trajectory, pretty soon Dean would have a dead body on his hands and he’d have to call someone. But it was some of Castiel’s first words that troubled Dean, that made him question if he should ever call it in:  _ They will peg me right away and most likely kill you on sight. _

He still didn’t know who Castiel was, but he could easily figure out that just being in his presence was dangerous. He had half a mind to tell Castiel to go off into the woods and fend for himself, but he knew he couldn’t just send someone off to their death while he dusted off his hands and said ‘not my problem anymore’. Even if Castiel was some killer or wanted criminal, despite his claims of not being such, he couldn’t just turn his back on him. But if Cas died in the cabin, and Dean called the authorities, there would be too many questions that he wouldn’t have answers to, and if whoever is after Cas wouldn’t hesitate to kill Dean upon just seeing him, then that meant that he’d probably either be killed just for being associated with Castiel or he’d be taken to be questioned about his involvement with him and then killed, either way, Dean was probably going to be silenced one way or another.

If Castiel didn’t make it, Dean had to start thinking about possibly just burying the body and heading home. He didn’t know what Castiel was involved in, but it couldn’t be anything good and Dean had no desire to die because of something he doesn’t understand. There were too many variables to consider if Castiel died and it only made Dean more determined to help him recover. 

As the day wore on, Dean began to grow more and more concerned for Castiel’s well being. His breathing was getting heavier and he was covered in such a thick sheen of sweat that Dean had to stay by his side almost constantly to wipe it away. 

He was just beginning to think about starting to make himself some dinner when Castiel’s eyes suddenly popped open. 

“Inias,” he whispered. 

_ Shit, here we go again. _

“Cas, it’s me, Dean,” he said just as Cas reached out to grab at him. 

“Inias?” he questioned. “Is it really you?” 

Dean’s hand came up to hold onto Castiel’s wrist while Castiel’s fingers tightened around the collar of Dean’s shirt. “Cas, you’re not thinking clearly, okay? Just lie down.” He tried to gently push Cas back onto the bed but he clung to Dean like a barnacle on a rock. 

“No, don’t leave me. You can’t leave me again. You promised!” Cas wailed, tears began to pour down his cheeks, dripping steadily from his eyes. 

“I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay,” Dean replied calmly as he again tried to get Cas to lie back down. This time, Cas let Dean guide him down and his fingers slowly slipped from Dean’s shirt. “That’s it,” Dean praised him. “Just get some sleep, you need to fight this fever off.” 

When Cas’ eyes slid closed again, Dean carefully stood up and then headed over to where he had a few stacked cans of beans. He selected a can and then grabbed a bag of rice and a pot before he headed outside to begin making dinner. 

It took him a minute to add logs to the fire pit, but once he lit the pile of sticks and logs, fire blazed around him. He poured the beans into the pot and then set it over the fire to cook while he dashed back inside to get another pot, a bowl, and some water for the rice. He paused to check on Cas, just to make sure he was still breathing, which he was albeit a lot faster than Dean would like. He was also muttering in his sleep, saying Inias’ name over and over again. 

Cas’ feverish whispers followed Dean as he made his way back outside, and as he sat back by the fire to stir his beans he found himself wondering what had become of Inias. How had he died? Dean had so many questions, but he knew Cas was not inclined to answer them, especially when he was so sick, and Dean wouldn’t dream of asking him about the nature of his husbands death. 

He sighed as he added water and rice to his other pot. He was always careful not to make more than one or two servings because he had no way to keep the leftovers cool. He stirred at each pots contents as his gaze traveled across the trees surrounding the cabin, looking to see if there were any creatures lurking in the dark. Dean spotted small movement, that could only be a squirrel or maybe even a fox, but nothing big enough to be a bear or a mountain lion. 

An owl hooted in the distance and frogs croaked to the song of crickets. It was peaceful. He found himself wishing that Cas was awake to enjoy the quiet sounds of nature as the daytime creatures slipped off to sleep and the nighttime creatures came out to play.

Dean didn’t know why he found such delight in sitting outside under the stars, with a warm summer breeze slipping through his hair and billowing under his t-shirt while one by one that stars made themselves visible across the blue canvas that was the sky; but he did. He loved it. He loved every second of it. Well, almost every second; he could do without the mosquitoes. There was a buzzing in his left ear and he swatted at it, fingers reaching to capture the bloodsucker, but the mosquito dodged his blow and Dean growled in frustration. 

A second later, he felt a small pinch on his forearm and his palm came down with a  _ smack _ . This time, when he pulled away there was a bloody smear of legs and wings on his hand. 

“Aha! Gotcha, you little fucker,” Dean gloated in triumph as he wiped the remains of the mosquito on his pants. 

His meal was beginning to hiss at him over the flames and Dean quickly removed the pots from the heat and poured the beans and rice into his bowl. More mosquitoes hummed around him while he ate, but the fire helped keep most of them at bay and he finished his dinner quickly. 

Collecting all the dishes, he moved back inside and set them down into a bin that the owner of the cabin left behind for this exact purpose; tomorrow he’d take a trip to the river and wash them. After sparing another glance at Cas, who was still out cold but was no longer muttering, Dean headed back outside to put out the fire and then go to bed himself. 

He was still sleeping on the floor and no matter what he did to try to make the hard wood of the cabin more comfortable he still woke with a stiff neck and back as well as aches and pains all over. It wasn’t like he could just move Cas to the floor, that would be borderline cruel making the injured and ill sleep on the hardest surface in the entire damn cabin, so that meant that he was stuck on the floor with a thin blanket to keep him warm (not that the nights got cold anyway, as it was summer) and a balled up sweatshirt as a pillow because Cas was using the only pillow in the cabin. 

As he settled down on the floor, preparing for another night of misery, Cas started to twitch in his sleep and his mouth parted in a whine. His whole body went rigid and then a shiver passed through him, as if he’d just been electrocuted. Cas cried out in what could only be called terror and then he started to writhe on the bed, kicking and screaming while sweat continued to dampen his skin. 

Dean couldn’t just sit back and let this continue. In moments, he was beside Castiel and he reached out to try to shake him awake. The second Dean’s hands made contact with Castiel’s arms he started to struggle, as if Dean were trying hold him down instead of wake him. 

“Cas, wake up, man!” he shouted as he shook him, occasionally dodging Cas’ arms as they flailed in the air. “Cas!” Dean shouted, louder this time. He shook Castiel exceptionally hard and that seemed to be enough to wake him. Cas woke with a cry and a hand to Dean’s face, which managed to push Dean to the floor as a jolt of pain ran up his nose. “Jesus, Cas,” he complained as he sat back up to meet Castiel’s wild blue eyes. 

“What’s going on?” Cas croaked. 

“You need to take another Tylenol, this fever is getting out of control,” Dean replied as he pulled his hand away from his nose to check if it was bleeding. Upon seeing that there was no red staining his hands, he stood to fetch the bottle of Tylenol from the cabinet he kept medical supplies in.

“Where am I?” Cas asked when Dean returned to his side. 

“You’re in Maine, in the middle of nowhere,” Dean replied as he shook a pill out onto his hand and filled a cup of water from the bucket he kept by Cas’ side. 

“Maine?” Cas repeated as he took the pill from Dean. 

“Yes, now swallow this so you can fight off this damn infection.” 

Cas did as he was told but once the pill was gone and the water was drained, he blinked slowly at Dean. “And, who are you?” 

“My name’s Dean, remember?” 

“Dean,” Cas echoed, as if he was trying the name out on his tongue to decide if he liked how it felt or not. A slight spark of recognition flickered across his face and he nodded slowly. “Right, Dean.” 

That had to be a good sign, Cas no longer thought he was his dead husband and he could still remember who Dean was, even if he’d had to be prompted. “Yes, good. Now do you want anything to eat? I know it’s late but I can make some soup.” 

“I’m not hungry,” Cas replied. 

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that. At lest let me take your temperature again and see if the fever went down.” 

Cas waited patiently for Dean to get the thermometer and when he waved it in front of Cas’ mouth he opened it willingly and allowed Dean to set the stick under his tongue. A minute passed and the thermometer beeped, telling Dean to retrieve it. 

“102,” Dean read in a whisper. “Well, it went down, so that’s good I guess.” 

He busied himself with putting the thermometer back where it belonged but he could feel Castiel’s eyes on him the whole time. “Dean, may I ask you something?” 

“You just did,” Dean replied, trying for a joke. 

Castiel sighed and Dean turned around in time to see him roll his eyes. “I’m serious, Dean.” 

Dean sat back down on the ground beside the mattress and shrugged. “Okay, shoot.” 

“I want you to be honest with me about how bad my injures are. Do you think I’m going to make it?” 

Dean huffed a sigh. “Well, you were really freaking me out earlier with all your muttering and screaming and you were pretty touch and go for a while, I wasn’t entirely sure you’d wake up again. But you did, and I’d say that’s a good sign, your fever has also gone down which is another good sign. To answer your question, I honestly don’t know. Your wounds are fairly serious and you do have an infection, but judging by how you seem to be doing right now, I’d say your chances are good and getting better.” 

Castiel nodded slowly. “Thank you, Dean. I’m sorry about causing you worry, I hope I didn’t say anything too horrible.” 

“You didn’t,” Dean replied kindly. 

“May I ask what I said?” 

“Not much really. You just thought I was your husband and you asked me not to leave, but that was it.” 

“I apologize,” Cas said quietly. Dean could see the tears building in his eyes but they were quickly pushed away with a turn of his head and the swipe of hand.

“Hey, no, you got nothing to apologize for, Cas.” 

“Nonetheless, I am sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Eager to change the topic, Dean gestured towards the other side of the cabin where there was a pot and a can of chicken noodle soup. “What do you say to having a little bit of food?” 

“My state of hunger has not changed since the last time you asked.” 

“Yeah well, just the same I think you should get something into your stomach. You’re not going to get better if you don’t have the strength to.” 

“I suppose you have a point.” 

“I’ll heat up half a can for you,” Dean said as he moved over to the fireplace to stack some logs and set them ablaze. 

“Thank you, Dean.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“I got rather lucky when I found this cabin,” Cas continued as Dean began to open the can of soup. “I know I said it before, but I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you. So truly, thank you.” 

Dean paused in pouring the soup into a pot. “You’re welcome.” 

While he waited for the soup to heat up, Dean dug into his backpack from where he’d stashed the clothes he’d bought Cas. Cas watched him curiously as he pulled a pair of boxers from the bag. 

“When I went to the store I picked you up some stuff.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Cas said as Dean pulled a tag from the boxers and then located a pair of fresh sweatpants. 

“Well I figured you’d be getting uncomfortable in what you’ve been wearing and I wanted you to have something that’s specifically yours.” 

“That’s very kind of you.” 

“Do you need help with this?” 

Cas blushed slightly and forced a small nod. “As much as I’d rather prefer to do it myself, I can recognize that I am not currently in a position to do so. Help would be appreciated.” 

Dean nodded. “Okay.” 

He pulled the blanket away from Cas’ body and the began to work the pants he’d let Cas borrow off his legs. He hummed as he did so, trying to ease the tension between them at the awkwardness of the situation. When Dean had successfully pulled his pants away and reached up to do the same with his boxers, he paused, slightly unsure if Cas was one-hundred percent okay with him doing this; they’re complete strangers after all.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas said. 

“I just wanted to make sure,” Dean replied. 

Cas met Dean’s eyes, confirmation of his consent in his blue orbs. “Thank you, but it’s really fine.” 

Dean nodded and the continued to hum as he stripped the boxers from Cas’ legs but he purposefully diverted his eyes so that Cas could at least maintain some kind of privacy. While he moved to slip Cas’ legs into the fresh boxers, he looked up to find that Cas was leaning back against his pillow with his eyes shut. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m just trying to place the song you’re humming,” Cas replied. 

Dean chuckled as he pulled the sweatpants onto Cas’ legs. “It’s  _ Hey Jude  _ by The Beatles.” 

“Ah, I knew it seemed familiar.” 

“My Mom used to sing it to me at night before she put me to bed when I was a kid. It remains one of my favorite songs to this day.” 

Dean finished with Cas’ pants and then placed the blanket back over him and then went to the fire to check on the soup, still humming as he went. 

“It’s a beautiful song,” Cas said quietly. 

“It is,” Dean agreed as he stirred the soup, it was nearly done and Dean went to go find a bowl to put it in. 

“I really do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” 

“Well, it was getting rather boring here anyway and I’ve been having writer’s block for the last week so you’re a welcome distraction.” 

Dean held out the bowl of soup for Cas who took it with a wince. Dean watched him raise the spoon to his lips and his throat clicked as his swallowed. “We’re relatively safe here, correct?” Cas asked randomly as he continued to eat his soup slowly. 

“Uh, yeah, I think so. I mean, sometimes hikers come by every now and then, and there’s always the threat of bears, but other than that I’d say we’re safe.” 

Cas chuckled dryly. “Yes, I found out about bears the hard way.” 

“How did that even happen?” Dean asked, finally having the chance to ask one of his burning questions that Cas might actually be able to answer. 

“It was just a stroke of misfortune,” Cas replied as he set his soup bowl down on the ground, only half of it was gone, but most of the broth had been sucked from the bowl. “I can’t provide you with details because I shouldn’t tell you for your safety, but I also don’t fully know how it happened. One minute I was running, the next there was a bear and her cubs in front of me.” 

“You got really lucky that she didn’t kill you,” Dean said. 

“Well, she would have if she weren’t shot,” Castiel replied. “But I was shot too, as you no doubt figured out.” 

“Yeah, I know a bullet wound when I see one. But let me guess, you can’t tell me who shot you or why.” 

“Would you believe me if I said it was just a hunter who saw my distress and tried to save me, but ended up hitting both of us instead?” 

Dean shook his head. “Not in the slightest. There’s something else going on and if you’re not going to tell me, for my ‘safety’ or whatever, then that’s fine. But I should warn you, I’m very stubborn and I will dig for the truth even if I have to die trying.” 

An amused twinkle glinted in Castiel’s eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Dean glanced at his watch and then let out a sigh. “It’s getting late, if you’re done with your soup we should probably get some sleep.” 

“I’m done, thank you.” 

Dean took the bowl and put it with the rest of his dirty dishes before he blew out the lantern that he’d lit when the sun had started to go down. “If you need anything in the middle of the night, don’t hesitate to wake me, okay?” 

“I won’t,” Cas replied with a half smile. 

With that, Dean settled down onto the ground and Cas tugged the blanket farther up his body. Castiel was asleep in moments, the infection and fever working quickly to drag him away from the waking world, but it took Dean a lot longer. The fire was still crackling and popping while it devoured the wood in its path and Dean found the sound calming to listen to; but eventually, he drifted off to the soft sound of the fire slowly dying out.


	4. Questioned Without Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is everyone, the chapter you've all been waiting for! Fair warning, I'm mean and it does end on yet another cliffhanger, apologies for that but it had to be done. Once again, I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I'm doing my best to set aside some time to write so I can get something up for you guys; I managed to get this one up a lot sooner than I expected to. I hope everyone is doing well and continuing to be safe out there! Please enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! More will be up when I can manage it :)

Castiel didn’t know where he was, but he knew that he had to be in a car of some sort, judging by the movement and the sound of other cars rushing past them. His hands were bound in front of him, his lips were parted by a piece of fabric that was tied tightly around his head, and a thick black bag was blocking his vision. Pain still radiated through his shoulder, but he could tell that there was a bandage covering it; wherever he was going, they clearly needed him alive and right now that was all Castiel could cling to in the hopes of possibly making it out of this. 

But fear still nipped at his stomach, and he took a few steady breaths to try and calm himself. He was prepared for something like this, Inias had made sure he would be. His husband had trained him on how to resist interrogation, and even torture, in one of their many training sessions (although he really hoped it didn’t come to torture, training was one thing, the actual action was another, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold out for long); but despite his complaints at the time, it was now that Castiel realized just how grateful he was for Inias’ paranoia, it might have just saved his life. 

As soon as Castiel had accepted his marriage proposal, Inias had made sure to tell him what he was getting himself into to be certain that it was what Castiel wanted. He explained just how dangerous his job was and that there might be a chance that he wouldn’t make it home one day; he also insisted on putting Castiel through basic training in case he was ever taken by anyone who might try to get to him through Cas so that Cas wouldn’t give in easily if he were ever questioned. 

Castiel hadn’t been too worried back then, Inias was good at his job and he was always so careful not to put himself directly in harms way, but now that he was actually gone he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. In fact, he was mostly confused as to why these people, whom Castiel was almost ninety-nine percent certain were Inias’ coworkers, kidnapped him in the first place. His only logical train of thought brought him to the conclusion that something incredibly compromising, that would be a threat to national security, must have happened. 

_ They’re just covering all their bases _ . He told himself.  _ They just want to make sure I don’t know anything and I won’t go spewing government facts to the first person I meet.  _

He really shouldn’t be worried at all, because he  _ doesn’t  _ know anything; again, Inias saw to that. Inias never gave in when Castiel would ask for answers, he always kept his mouth shut and Castiel was once again grateful that Inias had the foresight to stay stubbornly silent. But contrary to his self-soothing reassurances, his constant fear never seemed to leave, it clung to him like a shadow, never ceasing to follow him, even without the sun, it was always there, unseen and lurking, waiting to make a reappearance.

The soft whisper of gruff voices came from Castiel’s left and it instantly quelled his erratic terror-induced thoughts. He couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, but he heard ‘plane’ and ‘prisoner’ mentioned multiple times. The word prisoner made something leap to life inside Castiel’s chest and his heart began to beat rapidly against his rib-cage, as if it was trying to take flight. 

If he was considered a prisoner, then that meant he was a suspected to be an accomplice in whatever had gone down in Korea; and in a way, he was. Inias had sent him top secret files, files that only  _ he  _ knew the password to access, files that he was told to keep away from the government’s prying eyes and which he hid in a place that only he or Inias would think to look. Wherever, and whoever, he was being taken to, he was aware that he was most definitely going to be questioned about those files, but the problem was that he really, truly, had no idea what was on them or what made them so important. What he did know, was that there was no way in Hell he was going to give them up. Inias paid the price for them with his life and he would rather die with them safely hidden then give them up and fail to keep Inias’ work safe.

When the car came to a stop, Castiel hardly dared to breathe. A door opened and a short blast of bright light from the outside world bathed over him. Even though he still couldn’t see anything substantial, he could see the change in light frequencies, and he could tell that it was possibly late morning or early afternoon. He didn’t know how long he’d been sedated, but he could only assume it had been hours, as they’d left his house in darkness. 

A moment passed where nothing happened, but then hands reached into the car to grab him roughly and Castiel was forced to exit the vehicle. The smell of hot tarmac greeted him and the whirring of engines was a sharp assault to his ears as he was led across the pavement and up the stairs of what he had to assume was a private jet, going by the topic of conversation from inside the car.

Once on the plane, he was shoved into a seat and a man grunted, “Sit still and stay quiet.” 

It wasn’t like Castiel had a choice in the matter anyway, he was thoroughly bound and there was nowhere for him to run, he was on a  _ plane  _ for Heavensakes. He supposed that his captors might be worried that he would try to jump off it, but he was hardly suicidal, and even if he  _ tried _ , he knew he would barely be out of his seat before someone would be on him. 

There was some rustling about the cabin for a moment as other passengers of the plane found their seats but it was shortly after they’d settled down that the plane began to pick up speed down the runway.

Castiel had no idea where he was going, he was just as curious as he was afraid, the only solace he found was when the pads of his fingers smoothed over the ring on his left hand and reminded him that even if Inias was gone, which he still  _ possibly  _ might not be (although Castiel was beginning to doubt it), he had a piece of him right here on the plane.

Time was very hard to determine when he couldn’t see anything, but he assumed it had been about an hour, maybe more, when he heard the sound of a radio being turned on. The one thing that his captors hadn’t thought to cover up, were his ears, and he could just make out the sound of a news station on the radio. Even though it wasn’t much to listen to, it was  _ something  _ and that’s all that mattered to Castiel. 

As the man giving the weather report for the week segued back into the main anchors, the sound that usually proceeded a red banner with the words  _ Breaking News _ , blared through the radio. Sure enough, one of the anchors began to speak. 

_ “We interrupt this segment with some horrifying news from a small town, just outside of Washington D.C., that has reported a missing persons. A history teacher from Lincoln High School by the name of Castiel Novak has been reported missing after not showing up for work early this morning. According to a friend of the missing Mr. Novak, and fellow teacher at the school, Anna Milton, she went to his home to check on him after he hadn’t answered her messages and found that there were signs of forced entry; blood was even discovered at the scene. No body was found but it is possible that this could be the beginning work of a serial kidnapper or even a killer. While police continue to look into this strange disappearance, all residents of surrounding counties are advised to take precautions and remain alert at all times. Residents are also asked to report anything suspicious to the police and if anyone has any information regarding Castiel Novak you are encouraged to step forward. With information, questions, or concerns, please call 1-800-401-0316, again that’s 1-800-401-0316.” _

There was a brief moment where Castiel felt something warm rise up in his chest (people were looking for him, people were  _ worried  _ about him) but it was quelled by the sound of one of the men who’d grabbed him as he cursed loudly when his phone rang.

“Fuck!”

“Is that the boss?” another man asked, worry slicked his words. 

“Yup,” the other man replied. 

“Well answer it, you don’t want to keep her waiting.” 

With a disgruntled huff, Castiel listened as the call was answered. “Hello?”

“Don’t ‘hello’, me!” a sharp female voice snapped over the line. “How could you be so  _ careless!? _ You were trained better than this, you’ve gone against everything we taught you! This was supposed to be a covert operation, no one was supposed to know about this, and now it’s all over the news!” 

“I’m sorry ma’am, I didn’t think-” 

“Damn right you didn’t think! We can’t handle the heat of this from the press, it’s unwanted attention and I don’t want to have a conversation with the FBI to make them stand down from a search for some kind of potential serial killer! You’re getting sloppy, Ion. Fix this, and don’t let it happen again.” 

With a click, the call ended and the man who’d been on the receiving end of his boss, Ion, he’d been called, let out a long sigh. “Fuck.” 

“You think she’s going to kill you on sight when we arrive?” 

Ion hissed out a breath of air. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Silence followed the end of their conversation and any hope he might of had about being found was instantly pushed away; this was the government he was being held by, why did he even think that there was a possibility of getting out of this? If the government wanted him to disappear, he was going to disappear. 

For the rest of the plane ride, Castiel tried his best to remain calm. He still didn’t know what was going to happen when they got to their destination, although he was almost certain it was not going to be anything good. Ion and his counterpart, whom Castiel had learned was called Bartholomew, were still talking in low voices when the plane began to make its decent; there was nothing for Castiel to do but wait until the plane landed. Once the engines shut off, he was yanked unceremoniously to his feet. 

“I better not hear a word out of you,” Bartholomew growled in his ear, “or we’ll sedate you again.” 

It wasn’t like Castiel could say anything anyway, the corners of his mouth were beginning to chafe from the gag that was pressing down on his tongue, and it effectively kept him from speaking. He was ushered down the stairs of the plane and out onto the tarmac, where he was then guided into another vehicle which he assumed would take him to his final destination. 

The ride was rather long, of course Castiel’s sense of time was completely disabled as he couldn’t even see past the black bag over his head, but it felt long in the sense that Castiel had had to pee since they’d stepped into the car and the ability to keep himself together was now growing in difficulty, and becoming almost unbearable. 

When the car eventually came to a stop, he was again pulled so sharply from the car that he worried his arm might dislocate from its socket. It was only a few steps away from the car that Castiel could tell that they’d entered some kind of building. There was a sharp smell in the air, one he couldn’t quite place as it was covered by the strong citrus scent of cleaning products, which only made his stomach turn in rising worry. Whatever was in need of being cleaned or covered up couldn’t be anything good, especially if the way he was being treated was any indication. 

As he was led blindly down a hallway, Castiel tried to pay attention to how many steps they took from the door they’d entered from, it was something Inias had told him to do if he was ever taken by anyone. Inias’ soft commanding voice rang in his ears as he remembered his words.

_ “Always be aware of your surroundings, Castiel. If you’re in a car, count the minutes it takes for you to get to your destination, if you fly in a plane, count the hours, if you’re led somewhere on foot, count how many steps it takes to get from where you began to where you end up. It’s important to know where you are in relation to where you started, it could save your life.”  _

So, Castiel had been doing just that. Since he’d been knocked out for the beginning of the government’s intervention, he had no idea where he was in the world, and during the plane ride he hadn’t been able to focus enough to start counting hours. He’d lost count after sixty minutes in the car when they’d left the airport, but counting steps was easier than counting minutes or hours, and while he’d failed on all other accounts, he could succeed on this one. 

_Thirty_ _. _

_ Thirty one.  _

_ Thirty two.  _

_ Thirty three.  _

He continued to count silently as he was rushed along. He noted if they turned down another hallway and what direction that was and he noted if a door was opened in front of him and so on and so forth.

Finally, they came to a stop at one hundred and fifty seven steps after three consecutive left turns at steps fifty four, sixty eight, and ninety, and a right turn at one hundred and forty one. Everything else had been straight down long corridors, but now that they’d stopped, Castiel felt the bonds around his wrists suddenly fall away and then he was being shoved forward and the door was being slammed behind him with a metallic click as a lock sealed him away. 

It took him a moment to find his feet again, his surprise had caused him to stumble to the ground where he’d manage to break his blind fall with his hands, but once he managed to get upright again, he slowly removed the bag from his head and pulled the gag away from his aching mouth. 

His eyes gradually began to adjust to the dim light of the padded cell he was currently in. There were no windows, which Castiel didn’t find surprising in the slightest, but there was a bed and a toilet attached to a sink, it was the kind that you’d find in a prison, and that made sense since he was probably in a high security government holding facility. The bed didn’t look altogether very comfortable but it was something that Castiel could lie horizontal on and he took that opportunity, as soon as he relived himself in the toilet and let himself have a drink of water from the sink. 

Just as he predicted, the bed was firm and lacked any kind of comfort, but his aching body found it to be enough to relax on after being upright for what Castiel was fairly certain was at least twelve hours. Being packed into a car and then a plane and then another car with only a short walk in between had made his back tight with knots and he was just thankful to not be moving anymore. 

He wasn’t sure the exact moment he fell asleep, but he must have, because the next thing he knew he was being awoken by the sound of the lock sliding open on the cell door and a woman standing in the doorway. She was dressed in a gray pantsuit, her expression was drawn into a neutral frown that came across as stern and austere, her dirty blond hair was tied up in a tight bun, and she held a clipboard in one hand while she regarded Castiel with a sharp, calculating, look. 

Castiel shifted under her scrutiny as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The woman entered the cell and the door slid shut immediately behind her. Castiel swallowed in anticipation for what was about to happen.

“Castiel Novak,” she began, her voice was harsh and devoid of any emotion but Castiel recognized it as the voice of the woman who had called Ion on the plane. “My name is Naomi, I was the leading supervisor of the mission your husband was sent to complete, and I’m here to ask you a few questions.” 

Castiel’s brain was struggling to catch up with everything that had happened to him and all he managed to stammer out were a few words. “Is-is true that Inias is… d-dead?” 

“It is,” Naomi responded curtly. “We apologize for you loss, but it is imperative that we learn what you knew about your husbands involvement with this mission.” 

“I d-didn’t know anything. I-Inias was always so c-careful not to t-tell me anything,” Cas replied as he tried to control the crushing feeling that was pressing against his chest at another confirmation that Inias was never coming back to him. 

Naomi narrowed her eyes at him but jotted something down on her clipboard and then peered over it to fix him with another stern look. “Did Inias leave anything with you before he left? A computer, phone, tablet? Any kind of electronic or something of the sort?” 

Castiel shook his head. “Not that I know of.” He wasn’t exactly lying with his answer, Inias hadn’t left him with any electronics; memory sticks don’t fall under the category of electronic in his mind. 

Another scrutinous look made Naomi’s eyes narrow even further. “You’re sure? He didn’t leave you with anything at all? Not even a note?” 

Inias had technically left him a note, the sticky note with the password on it, but he wasn’t about to count that as the kind of note Naomi was looking for. “I swear he didn’t leave anything behind, no electronics, no notes, nothing.” 

Again, Naomi looked him over before writing something else on her clipboard. “Thank you, Mr. Novak, that’ll be all for now, I will return again tomorrow with more questions.” 

She turned to go and Castiel felt panic flutter in his chest. Before he knew what he was doing he’d slid off his bed and extended a hand towards her retreating figure as she prepared to have the door opened. “Wait!” 

Naomi turned, equal parts annoyance and, possibly, amusement, in her eyes. “Yes?” 

“Can you please tell me what’s going on? Why am I here? How did Inias die? What’s happening!?” Unwanted tears were starting to prick behind his eyelids and he had to clench his fists at his sides to keep his hands from trembling. 

“We cannot disclose the nature of your husbands death, more of your questions might be answered at a later time, but I can tell you that Inias was a traitor and you are here to be questioned about any possible involvement you might have had in his plans.” 

The door clicked open and she was gone before Castiel could even process her words. 

_ Inias? A traitor?  _

No, that didn’t make sense, that couldn’t be true. Inias would never betray anyone, he was proud of his job and he worked hard to keep those that were under his care safe. There had to be a mistake. He refused to believe that the man he slept beside every night was secretly plotting against the government and the country in any way. And to think that Castiel was now being held against his will because they were investigating the possibility that  _ he  _ was in on whatever Inias was supposedly ‘planning’, made him feel sick. However, a few questions began to rise up in his mind. 

_ What were the contents of the files on the memory stick? Should he have looked at it before he hid it? _

_ What if Inias  _ had  _ betrayed his government?  _

_ What if Inias was a spy of some sort working for another country and had been undercover this whole time, even using Castiel to solidify his ruse and draw suspicion away from his plans?  _

No.  _ NO _ . Inias wouldn’t do that, he couldn’t. Castiel knew him better than anyone else on the planet, he was trustworthy. Inias was sweet and caring, filled with love and Castiel could not think of any world where he would be anything else; despite his job and being certified to carry a firearm, he wouldn’t even kill the spiders in the house, Castiel had to do it. If that was a testament to the kind of person he was then there was no way that Inias could he a traitor, he had never been anything less than loyal to his job.

But... if it had all been a ruse, then what did Castiel really know? Could he have been living with someone he didn’t even come to know at all? Had Inias’ love for him been completely fabricated? 

The flurry of questions his brain produced was enough to make him feel dizzy and he had to sit down, swallowing hard to keep the empty contents of his stomach from rising as bile in his throat. It was all too much at once and so unexpected that Castiel began to wonder if this was just some horrible nightmare. A quick pinch to his arm confirmed that this was indeed real life and he fell back onto his bed with a strained sigh while the tears he’d been trying to ignore began to spill from the sides of his eyes. 

His thoughts continued to drift towards Inias and his last video, the fear in his eyes and the panic in his voice as he scrambled to try and send Castiel every last drop of data he could, was enough to make his chest hurt. He was never going to see his husband again, he may never know what happened, Naomi’s vague suggestion that he  _ might  _ get answers does nothing to quell his burning anxiety. 

Despite his now shaken confidence that Inias wasn’t entirely truthful with him during their marriage, he will still refuse to give up the memory stick. He has to believe that Inias is not a traitor and that whatever he did, he had a reason for it. Whatever is on the memory stick has to be important and he can’t just turn his back on the man he’d been married to for half a decade, he still has to trust Inias, it’s the only thing that he has left to grasp at. 

****

Castiel stared at the pile of mush in front of him and pushed at it with his plastic fork. The mush was clearly supposed to be potatoes, but it was so discolored that Castiel was under the assumption that these potatoes should have been thrown away weeks ago. On the other side of his tray there were a few carrot sticks, which Castiel had munched on but they tasted bitter and they were dry, they lacked the moisture and crunch of fresh carrots. Beside the carrots, there was a lump of what Castiel was fairly certain might be chicken of some sort, but he hadn’t touched it and he was almost scared to. 

He knew that this was the only food he’d be getting for a while, or possibly all day, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat over the turmoil in his stomach. The few carrot sticks he’d had were not agreeing with him and he didn’t want to risk losing the rest of his food (despite how disgusting it was) to his upset stomach. However, he did drink two full cups of water because ignoring food was one thing, but not drinking was another. 

Castiel had been in this holding cell for about twenty-four hours now, judging by how he’d only fallen asleep and woken up once, but he was already growing restless being cooped up in a windowless room. He’d taken to counting the number of times the red light of the security camera, in the top left corner of the cell, blinked at him; the highest he’d gotten was three hundred and twenty one. 

The only interaction he’d had with anyone had been yesterday with Naomi and today with the man who shoved his food through a tray slot in the door. He didn’t know what they planned to do with him, but the feeling in his gut told him that he very well may not walk out of here alive. No matter what Castiel tells them about how he was not involved in whatever Inias was planning, the more they’re going to try to get something out of him. That was something Inias had warned him about during their training sessions. 

_ They won’t believe you, until you’re dead.  _

The outlook of his situation was definitely not good, but Castiel forced himself to think on the bright side, if he died at the hands of the government, then at least he’d get to see Inias again in the afterlife. 

As Castiel was just giving up on trying to convince himself to eat, the cell door clicked open and Naomi stepped into the cell, clipboard in hand. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Novak,” she greeted him. 

“Uh, afternoon,” Cas replied warily. 

“I’d like to pick up where we left off yesterday with a few questions if you’re up for that.” 

Castiel nodded slowly. “Okay.” 

“Can you please tell me if there was anything off-putting about your husband before he left?” 

Cas paused to think for a second, eyes narrowed in thought. Eventually he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so, he seemed normal.” 

“Did he ever mention anything about connections or ties that he may have had with anyone that he was planning to meet during this mission?” 

Again, Cas shook his head. “No.”

Naomi let out a small sigh. “Mr. Novak, this would go much better for both of us if you don’t avoid the truth.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion. “But I am telling the truth.” Inias hadn’t done anything or said anything about anyone or the nature of his visit to Korea. 

Naomi lowered her clipboard and took a small step towards him. “We are trying to refrain from getting answers out of you by force, but we will do whatever necessary to make sure that everything about this operation is secure.” 

Castiel swallowed a thick lump that had started to force its way up his throat. “I promise you, I don’t know anything.” 

Naomi clasped her hands in front of her clipboard and fixed Castiel with what might have been an attempt at a look of reassurance. “We know that Inias must have taught you at least some of his tricks, but you’re not the one in trouble here, we don’t want to hurt you, we just need to figure out what you know.” 

Castiel stood up, straightening his shoulder and drawing himself up to his full height. “I’ve already told you, I don’t know  _ anything _ .” 

Naomi sighed, a long drawn out breath of air. “I truly didn’t want it to come to this, but you leave me no choice.” She took a step back towards the cell door as it clicked open, causing Castiel to jump slightly. A burly black man stepped into the room, a black bag and handcuffs in his hands. “Bring him to the interrogation room, Uriel.” 

Castiel tried to step away, his fight or flight response was activated and his body was telling him to  _ run _ , but Uriel grabbed ahold of him with strong hands and soon Castiel’s vision was being cut off and his hands were roughly cuffed behind him. He barely remembered to start counting his steps as he was led out of the cell. 

The walk wasn’t nearly as long as the one they’d taken to get to Castiel’s cell, this walk was only eighty four steps and when the bag was removed from his head, he realized why he’d smelled cleaning products when he’d entered the building. There were prominent blood stains on the floor surrounding the chair he was currently being strapped to, chains hung from the ceiling and drain was directly in front of him on the floor. 

Castiel’s stomach turned violently and he had to close his eyes to take a deep breath and steady his trembling body. There was a rumbling sound of something on wheels being pulled into the room and then a skinny man with a goatee-type beard and shoulder length hair came into view with the cart in front of him. Excitement glinted in his eyes and he smiled at Castiel, lips pulled back to reveal slightly yellowing teeth. The cart he was pushing was stacked high with knives, needles, wrenches, saws, the works, and it only made Castiel’s fear spike up at least ten notches.

“Get to work on him, Malachi,” Uriel ordered. 

Malachi grinned. “It would be my pleasure.” 

“Remember, refrain from doing anything too  _ advanced _ , yet, we just want to scare him,” Uriel said as he began to head towards the door. 

“I know,” Malachi replied. “Leave me to my work.” 

Uriel nodded and stepped from the room. Castiel stared at Malachi, his heart thrumming dramatically in his chest as he picked up a small knife and advance towards Castiel. 

“Well then, let’s begin.” 


	5. The Road to Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! I've had a very busy couple of weeks and I didn't have any time to write, but when I found time, I managed to finish up this chapter for y'all.  
> I want to thank everyone who's been reading this fic and patiently waiting for updates, y'all are amazing and I don't think I'll ever get used to people actually enjoying my writing enough to wait for updates that take me a long time to get out. Thank you guys for your support and I hope you'll continue to wait around for updates.  
> Once again I do apologize for any and all spelling and grammar mistakes, I had to do most of my writing offline and when I manage to get online to update, sometimes I overlook errors in my editing, but if you find any please let me know so I can fix them.  
> And now, please enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! I'll see you guys again when I can :)

Dean placed a rock on top of his stack of paper and then turned his attention to the typewriter in front of him. He’d gone outside to give Cas some peace and quiet while he tries to fight off the last of his fever since he’d figured that the sound of typing would disturb him, and he didn’t want to make it harder for Cas to sleep. 

The only problem with that brilliant idea, was that today was a particularly windy day. Even with the rock pinning the papers to the ground, they still flapped at the edges, desperate to escape the weight holding them down. Dean knew they wouldn’t go anywhere, but he was still worried that he might have to chase down a few pieces when he lifted the rock to get a new page. With half an eye on the papers, Dean began to write. 

_Footsteps. That was the first thing Eliot heard as he woke from an otherwise undisturbed slumber. Confusion filled his thoughts and he blinked sleep from his eyes with a yawn. The sound came again._

_Those were, undeniably, footsteps._

_But that couldn’t be possible. Eliot had made sure to find a spot where he could enjoy the peace of nature, alone, without any possibility of hikers stumbling across him. Clearly, he had picked a bad place to camp for the week as the crunch of feet on the ground came once again._

_Curious, he pushed his way out of his tent and peered into the forest. It was too dark to really see anything, but Eliot saw the unmistakable outline of a man slinking, or more like stumbling, through the trees. The man drew closer to him, eyes set on his tent, and when he finally came into view of Eliot’s small campfire -that he’d set up to keep him warm through the night- he pitched forward with a grunt and Eliot was left to stare at the steady stream of blood that was flowing from under the man’s torso._

Dean sat back and stared at the words in front of him. He liked what he’d written, but his inspiration for the story was lying inside the cabin, and part of him really didn’t want to write about his own personal experiences and make it into a work of fiction, not to mention that Castiel should really have a say in this as well. 

After a moment of deliberation, Dean decided that he would leave it as a draft until he could confer with Castiel about whether or not he could use their meeting as the beginning premise of his story. He pulled the paper free of the typewriter and set it down under another rock so it wouldn’t blow away before he replaced it with another blank piece of paper. He was just about to start typing the beginning of yet another story, when a loud groan made him jump in surprise. 

“Cas?!” Dean called out as he got to his feet and headed inside. “Everything okay?” 

Castiel looked up at him through half-slitted eyes. “I feel sick again.” 

_Well shit_. 

Just when Dean though Cas might be getting better, he had to go and get worse. “Okay, hang tight for a second, buddy.” 

Dean went to find a bucket -that he’d recently washed that morning in the river- and then placed it in Castiel’s lap. “Thank you,” Cas said through another groan as he leaned forward with a retching noise. 

Dean sat beside him and let his hand rub small circles across Castiel’s back. “Just let it all out, pal.” 

Castiel did just that. His stomach didn’t have much to empty but the bucket filled with water and some chunks of soup from this morning. When he pushed the bucket away, Dean set it at the end of the bed and Castiel leaned back with a heavy sigh. 

Dean pulled the thermometer out of the first aid kit -which he kept beside the bed now so that he didn’t have to fetch it every time he needed to redress Castiel’s bandages- and held it out in front of Castiel’s mouth. “Alright, open wide.” 

Cas did as he was told and Dean placed the stick under his tongue and waited for the telltale beep that would let him know it was okay to take it out. When he read the number on the thermometer a little sigh of relief came out of his lips. “Good news, your fever’s dropped to 101.” 

Cas didn’t seem to care about that tidbit of news as another groan shook his body. “What do you say I check your bandages again, huh?” 

Cas managed a nod and Dean got to work at peeling back the bandages and redressing the wounds. Cas hissed in pain and his whole body tensed when Dean dabbed at one of the claw marks with the edge of an alcohol wipe. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“It’s okay.” Cas’ reply came through gritted teeth, which made Dean aware that the apology was just a formality, _it_ wasn’t ‘okay’ in any sense of the word, but Dean knew that Cas was aware that he had to do this or the infection would continue to spread instead of slow. 

Dean continued to clean the wounds and redress them and by the time he was done, Cas’s teeth were so deep into his bottom lip that Dean worried he might bit it in half. “You’re all set.” 

“Thank you,” Cas replied through a breath of air. 

“The good news is that the infection seems to be going away.” 

Cas nodded. “Yes, I can feel it.” 

“I think you’re over the brunt of it. Things are looking up, Cas,” Dean said with a smile as he patted the other man’s leg gently. 

“It appears so.” 

Dean busied himself with packing up the first aid kit, but once he was finished he turned to look back at Cas. “Can I ask you something?” 

“If it has anything to do with how I ended up here, then no, you may not ask me something,” Cas replied stiffly. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, why won’t you tell me what’s going on? I could help.” 

Cas scoffed at him, but it quickly turned into a wince. “Dean, if I tell you you’ll be in danger, just like I was, just like I _am_. I can’t put an innocent person in the line of fire, you helping me recover is already toeing that line, if they find us here…” 

“I know, I know,” Dean held up a hand as Cas trailed off, “they’ll kill me on sight, blah blah blah. I still don’t get why you can’t tell me. I mean, if whoever the fuck ‘ _they’_ are finds us, and if what you say is true, I’ll be dead within seconds, so what’s the harm in telling me something if I won’t be able to blab to anyone about it from six feet under.” 

Castiel’s eyes narrowed at him. “Don’t joke, Dean. If they think for a _moment_ that you know something of import, they won’t hesitate to either kill you, or bring you back to their headquarters and torture the information out of you. It’s not a risk you should be willing to take, and it’s certainly not one I’m willing to take, not when I don’t even know the full story myself.” Dean quirked an interested eyebrow at Cas but before he could even open his mouth Cas was glaring at him again, eyes sharp. “Don’t,” he warned. 

Dean let out a sigh that could almost have been a whine, like the sound a child would make after being told they can’t have a toy in the toy store. “You’re no fun, Cas.” 

“I’m not trying to be ‘fun’,” Cas replied. “I’m trying to make sure we both stay alive.” 

“I don’t think anyone’s going to be coming for you here, buddy,” Dean said as he glanced around the cabin. “Like I’ve already told you, we’re pretty secluded.”

“I still don’t like to let my guard down,” Cas rebuked as his eyes steadily surveyed the cabin, narrowing to slits as he peered through the windows. 

Dean let out another sigh. “Seriously dude, who the fuck _are you_?” 

Cas turned his stony gaze to Dean. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?” 

“Not as long as you’re sleeping in my cabin and I’m helping you continue to live another day, I think I at least deserve to know who you are.” 

A long drawn out huff of air came from Cas’ mouth and Dean felt a slight sense of giddiness as he realized Cas was about to cave, just a little bit. “Well I already told you my name, Castiel, and my husbands name, Inias. I was a history teacher, a nobody, Inias… Inias worked for people that I didn’t even know the names of, his job was dangerous, and he always reminded me that one day he might not come home. And then one day… he didn’t.” 

“So, how did you end up in this mess if you were just a history teacher?” 

“That’s the part of this story that I’m going to continue to withhold from you.” 

“Aw come on!” Dean protested. “I change your bandages, feed you, keep you hydrated, clothe you, let you go to the bathroom in a _pan_ that I then have to go _clean_ , and you won’t tell me your life story? That’s just cruel, Cas. _Cruel_. What’s a guy gotta do around here to earn some goddamn trust, huh? Whatever it is, I’m not gonna say anything, your secrets are safe with me.” 

“I don’t doubt that they would be,” Cas replied. “It’s not a matter of trust, Dean. You’ve more than proven that you’re a kindhearted individual who cares deeply for other people. Speaking from experience, I can honestly say that I trust you with my life, but, if I tell you what I know, and if they catch you, they’re going to do to you, what they did to me, possibly worse. I never cracked, my husband taught me what to do in these kinds of situations, but I know next to nothing about the kind of man you are when it comes to torture. You might break the second you see a knife coming towards you, I can’t risk that.” 

Dean pouted at Cas, slightly affronted that he would think Dean would crack so easily. He knew his fight for answers was over, that Cas had won (for now) and that Dean should admit defeat, but he couldn’t quite let go of the argument without throwing in an offer. “Fine, I won’t bother you about it anymore, but for the record, if you ever _do_ want to get all those secrets off your chest, I’m more than happy to listen.” 

“Noted,” Castiel replied with a small nod.

Dean left Castiel to continue to get some rest and returned to his typewriter to pick up where he left off in his book. But as the hours ticked by, Dean was beginning to get frustrated, crumpling papers and throwing them into the fire pit to burn later. No matter how many beginnings of stories he wrote, none of them seemed to compare to the one that was based off his and Castiel’s predicament. He still needed to ask Cas if he could use this part of his life in his story, but he wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up. Starting with something like, _hey man, like I told you before, I’m a writer, and I’ve kind of started a story that’s based off your pain and misery. Can I have your permission to use you as inspiration in this book,_ didn’t really sound like it would go over well. Cas might be offended, or think that Dean didn’t care about how personal using his story could be, Hell he’s still grieving for his husband, and here Dean is trying to use him for his own gain. 

No, he should really just forget about that beginning and try for another one. He _can’t_ use that one, it wouldn’t be fair to Cas. With a groan, Dean did his best to push that idea back down and pull another blank piece of paper from the stack beside him. With a heavy sigh, he started another story. 

He had a premise for his book, something that he wanted to keep constant with every failed beginning he wrote, and that was the story of a man who had gone out into the woods alone -much like Dean was doing right now- to go on some kind of adventure. It’s a horrible idea, Dean knows it, there are too many books out there that start this very same way, but he loves the idea of a man in the woods alone and facing nature. There’s just the problem of figuring out what the conflict that his character has to face will be. That’s where Cas’ story would be perfect, the mystery of a stranger stumbling upon his character’s tent, possibly having the stranger be a dangerous escaped criminal that lures Dean’s character into a false sense of security- the story would have to differ from Dean’s own experience somehow (although, Cas still has time to betray him and try to kill him, but Dean is fairly confident that he won’t). 

Dean shook his head sharply to toss the idea away. No. He already decided he wasn’t going to exploit Cas like that, and now was not the time to ask him if he could. Cas needed to focus on getting better and fighting off infection, he didn’t need Dean being insensitive by asking to use him for profit. 

He stared down the empty page in front of him until his eyes began to cross and blur. The sun was setting, an orange blush spreading across the sky, lining the trees in a glowing shadow, and so Dean stood with a yawn and a stretch that popped his spine in all the right places. He picked up his typewriter and papers, and then headed inside to find something to feed himself and Castiel for dinner.

This was how the days continued to pass. Dean would write in the morning, never finding a beginning he liked as much as the one about Cas, and so he would abandon his story for the rest of the night and make Cas dinner. As they ate, they’d make idle chat about the weather or Cas’ healing injuries. 

It was probably around a week later, when Cas woke up completely infection free. He was still pale and malnourished, the sickness had taken a toll on his already battered body, but there was a light to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. The colorful blue of his eyes were sparkling with something that Dean could only describe as life. Before, they’d been nothing but dull orbs, dimly glowing in the shadows of lanterns, but now Castiel seemed to have a spark to him again. He was sitting up further in bed and eating more food, Dean had to cook at least two cans of beans for the both of them so that Castiel could have the option of seconds, and he had begun to pester Dean about trying to walk.

“I just don’t think you’re ready yet,” Dean said as Cas yet again tried to move out of the bed. 

“ _I_ think I am,” Cas retorted, blue eyes shining in indignation. 

Dean put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, his grip was firm but gentle. “I really think you should wait another three days, at least. You’ve just barely started to gain back some weight and I think your body still needs to rest and adjust.” 

“I’ve been sitting stationary for far too long, please allow me to at least _try_ to get my legs under me again,” Castiel pleaded. 

The blue of Cas’ eyes captivated Dean, and the way his pupils rounded in the perfect impression of puppy dog eyes that could rival Sammy’s, made Dean slowly start to give. He sighed. “Fine, but you have to be honest with me if something starts to hurt or if it’s too much.” 

“I will.” 

“Alright then,” Dean said as he stood up and extended a hand to Cas. Cas took his offered hand and Dean carefully guided him to his feet. 

The effect of being on his feet for the first time in weeks instantly made Cas’ knees buckle under him and Dean quickly reached forward to catch him. Cas slumped into Dean’s chest and Dean wrapped his arms around him to keep him upright. 

“You okay?” Dean asked when Cas let out a small grunt. 

“I just need a moment.” 

Dean shifted under Cas’ weight so that he could hold him up better and let Cas take the time he needed to start moving again. Once Cas managed to get his feet somewhat under him, Dean shifted so that he could stand next to him, with a hand around his waist. Cas’ first step was shaky and a wince creased his face, but he didn’t stop until he managed to walk three steps. After three, his legs gave out again. 

“Woah there,” Dean said as he tightened his grip around Cas’ waist, holding him up. 

“I’m okay,” Cas replied, even though his breathing was ragged from the exertion. 

“Just the same, I think that’s probably enough for today.” 

Cas didn’t appear to have it in him to argue with Dean again, so he let Dean practically carry him back to the bed, where he carefully eased him down onto the mattress. “Thank you,” Cas said as Dean turned to go fetch him some water. 

Dean grunted in response and handed Cas the cup of water. “I still think you need to take another day to rest, you don’t want to push yourself past your limits.” 

“I’m aware of what you think, Dean. But I’ve been apart from something very important for too long already, and I need to get back home before anyone finds it.” 

More questions tingled on the tip of Dean’s tongue but he swallowed down the urge to ask them and instead sat back down on the floor beside Cas. “If you’ve been away for a while already, what’s one or two more weeks?” 

Cas’ grip tightened on the cup resting in his lap. “I need to make sure it’s still there, and the sooner the better.” 

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re not going to further injure yourself, okay? If you rush trying to walk, you’ll end up stuck here for another month.” 

Cas sighed but he nodded slowly. “You’re right.” 

“Glad we agree on something,” Dean mumbled as he sprawled out stomach first on the floor, pillowing his head on his arms. It was hardly even four o’clock, but Dean’s body was crying out for sleep and so he gave in, letting a yawn pass his lips before his eyes drifted shut. 

****

Dean’s gaze drifted over the leaf and grass strewn ground as he walked, slowly scanning every patch of earth for a decent sized stick. He spotted one poking out from a pile of dead leaves and he pulled at it, breaking it free of the dirt and grass that it had been clinging to. One look at the stick made him toss it back to the ground in disapproval; it was too short. 

He’d been searching for a sturdy stick for about an hour now, hellbent on trying to find one that he could whittle into a walking stick so Cas could lean on it while he tried to get his feet back under him again; but so far there had been nothing but twigs and small branches that would make perfect kindling for a fire, but were horrible specimens for a crutch that could hold a grown man's weight. 

The sun beat down hard on Dean’s neck as he walked and he occasionally wiped at his face with the collar of his shirt to try and stop the sweat from dripping into his eyes. Mosquitoes and other bugs swarmed around him and he absently swatted at them and slapped at his arms to disrupt the landing of a mosquito before it could bite him. 

Dean was beginning to think he was either going to have to give up, or climb a tree and saw off part of a branch, when his eyes caught on a long stick with a crook on one end. It was hanging limply from a tree, only just connected to the branch it was desperately trying to continue to be a part of, one good tug brought it to the ground and Dean examined his prize with calculating eyes. 

The bark peeled off nicely under his fingers, but it would still need the find point of a knife to make it smooth. The stick came up to just barely sit under his armpit and he deemed it the perfect height for Cas. With a triumphant grin, Dean headed back towards the cabin.

He stationed himself outside by the fire pit and pulled a small knife from his belt. Lining up the three inch blade against the bark, he began to idly scrape it off, humming to himself as he worked. It was an easy task, the wood under his palms became smoother than the rough texture of the bark and soon the whole stick was glinting in the sun, bark free. There were still parts of the stick by the crooked top that refused to smooth out and so Dean sheathed his knife and then headed towards the path that would take him to the waterfall. 

Soft sand slipped through Dean’s fingers as he set the stick down beside the water and let his palms fill up with small grainy pebbles. He wrapped his hand around the top of the stick and worked in a quick motion to try to smooth out all the rough patches. He made sure to get the rest of the wood too and when he deemed it usable, he rounded out the bottom of the stick and tested out how it fared under his own weight. When it didn’t break, he rinsed off his hands under the thunderous spray of water and returned to the cabin. 

“What’s that for?” Cas asked curiously when Dean stepped through the doorway. 

“You,” he replied as he crossed the cabin and held it out to him. 

“What do I need a stick for?” 

“To walk,” Dean answered with a smile. “I figured I’d make you something to help you along.” 

Something warm flickered in Cas’ eyes and a smile spread across his lips, revealing his gums. “Thank you, Dean. That was very kind of you.” 

Dean shrugged, fighting to hide his rising blush. “It was nothing.” 

“On the contrary, I think it is quite something,” Cas said as his fingers gently glided over the smoothed wood. “You were gone for hours,” he continued quietly, “were you working on this the whole time?” 

Dean chewed on his bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth as he watched Castiel examine every inch of the walking stick. “Uh, yeah.” 

“Then it was not nothing,” Cas said in a soft whisper. 

Dean cleared his throat and scratched idly at the back of his neck. “Well, uh, why don’t you give it a try?” 

Castiel seemed to brighten even more at the idea and he quickly moved to take Dean up on his suggestion. Using the stick, he pulled himself to his feet and Dean instantly reached out to steady him when Cas wobbled slightly. Cas waved him off. “I’m okay.” 

Dean retracted his hands and stepped a good distance away, letting Cas have the room to put his weight on the stick. He hooked his arm under the crook at the top , and took a small step, then another, then another. Castiel’s brow was wrinkled in concentration as he focused on putting one foot in front of the other and he successfully made it about two steps away from Dean, he stopped, a smile so wide on his face Dean couldn’t help but smile too. 

“Looks like it works,” Dean said. 

“It more than works,” Cas replied over his smile. “Thank you.” 

Castiel’s thanks warmed Dean’s body and his heart seemed to skip a beat in his chest. While Cas continued to take small, measured, steps, Dean watched him and he felt something else twist in his chest, something that he couldn’t quite put a name to, at least not yet.

****

“I don’t think you’re going to make it,” Dean said as Cas took one tentative step towards where Dean was standing at the other end of the cabin. 

Cas grit his teeth and his eyes snapped up to Dean’s, determination cold in their blue depths. “I’ll make it.” 

Dean suppressed a sigh. If there was anything he had learned about Cas in the few weeks that he’d been under Dean’s care, it was that he was stubborn. For the past week, Cas had been spending each day walking farther and farther distances with the walking stick so he could build up his strength again. But today, Cas had decided that he was going to try to walk without the stick, so it lay abandoned on the floor beside the bed and Cas was standing next to the rickety table, his grip on the worn wood was so hard that his knuckles had turned white. 

“Cas, if you’re not ready, you don’t have to do this, we can keep practicing with the stick,” Dean offered. 

He hoped Cas would take the out, that he’d let his pride die down just a little and realize that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. But Cas only narrowed his eyes at Dean and straightened up beside the table; he took another step. 

Dean watched as Cas slowly made his way forward, each step seeming to make his face twist in pain more than the last, but he didn’t stop. Dean waited for him on the other side of the cabin, resisting the urge to run to him and put a hand around his waist to guide him into a chair; he would let Castiel do this on his own, as he had wanted. 

Cas was so close, only about three steps away from where Dean was standing, when he visibly faltered. Dean dashed forward just as Castiel’s legs gave out under him, sending him on the path towards the floor. Dean’s fingers snaked around Cas’ waist, seeking to steady him, but he only managed to soften the fall with his body as they both tumbled to the ground with Castiel collapsing on top of Dean.

The warm heat of Castiel’s body was so unfamiliar to him, yet so welcoming, that Dean almost gasped at the sensation. Having been holed up in the cabin without the contact of another human for so long had begun to take a toll on him that he wasn’t aware was being taken; he missed the company of another person beside him. 

When Dean looked up at Castiel, he was met with otherworldly dazzling blue eyes. They stayed like that for a moment, looking at each other as if they were seeing one another for the first time, or as if Castiel was reading Dean, taking in every flutter of Dean’s eyelashes and the way his breath seemed to catch in his throat. Cas’ hands moved to brace themselves against Dean’s chest and he felt his heart stutter under the soft touch of Cas’ fingers as it pounded in a rapid staccato against his chest.

Since he first laid eyes on Castiel, he had seen how beautiful he was, known that he would have to control himself around the man in order to make him feel safe while he cared for his injuries. But with Cas’ heavy weight on his chest, it was impossible to ignore how perfectly their bodies fit together. He wondered what it would feel like to have Castiel’s hands trace marks across his skin, or how wonderfully their lips would fit together if he could close the small gap between them with a simple incline of his head. His eyes dipped to Castiel’s lips but then returned to his eyes, finding their blue to be so welcoming, so _warm_ , that Dean wanted to throw caution to the wind and kiss him senseless.

The only thing that stopped Dean from giving in to his impulses, was the simple band that wrapped around Cas’ finger. It was a reminder that Cas’ heart is not his for the taking, it was still broken, bruised and crisscrossed with scars much like his skin where many wounds had healed in long white lines. It would take a long time for Castiel to decide if he ever wanted to love again, and Dean reprimanded himself for even thinking that he could take Inias’ place. He hardly knows the man, and there are still so many secrets that he doesn’t yet have the answer to. He can’t let himself get distracted by physical attraction, he’s hardly glimpsed the man under the dark hair and sapphire eyes; he must meet that man first before he continues to let his treacherous mind take him down a dangerous road.

It’s as Dean was thinking of something to say, that Castiel moved away from Dean, rolling onto the floor and then attempting to pick himself up, that Dean is snapped back into reality. Cas tried to stand twice and failed, so Dean moved over to him and helped him up with gentle hands. 

“Thank you.” Cas’ voice was hardly a whisper, gruff and strained from exertion but Dean smiled warmly at him and nodded. 

“You’re welcome.” He fetched Castiel’s stick and then walked beside him to a chair, careful not to let his fingers graze against Cas’ skin as he helped him sit down. “I think you’ve had enough for today.” 

“I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with you.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at his easy admission. “Really? I thought for sure I’d have to fight you on that.” 

Cas shook his head and then blinked up at Dean with tired eyes. “That small walk succeeded in draining me of what remaining energy I had.” 

“Well how about some lunch then?” Dean offered. “You should continue to build your strength.” 

Castiel nodded slowly. “I suppose I could eat.” 

Dean turned his back to Cas to search through the cabinets for something to eat. When he moved over to the water bucket to fill a pot with the liquid, he found his eyes lingering on Castiel. The hunch of his shoulders gave away his exhaustion, but apart from that, he looked well, far better than he had a few weeks ago when he’d collapsed face first onto the ground. Dean can’t help but let his eyes roam, taking in his dark hair and the way it sticks up at different angles, as if each tendril of his hair was trying in vain to choose a different path from its companions. His eyes continued to travel over the vast expanse of Castiel’s back, taking in the undertones of muscle that still needed to be replenished, but that continued to exist all the same, remaining as stubborn as the man who bears them by refusing to disappear altogether, despite what Castiel had been through. This time, Dean wondered what it would feel like to let his own hands roam freely over that skin...

 _Fuck_.

Dean’s brain hissed at him and he tore his eyes away and returned to the task at hand. But even as he carried his pot and a bag of rice outside to the fire pit, he knew that he had already started down the road he’d told himself not to go down. 

Castiel was too mysterious a man, too captivating and question provoking, that Dean couldn’t possibly stay away. Castiel was also a dangerous man, his secrets and injuries were enough to tell Dean that, but he was intrigued, drawn in by the deep oceans of his eyes, eyes that could change from blue ice to warm fire; it was as if Dean were a pirate, called by the sweet songs of a siren as she tried to lure him to his death. There was no turning back now. He only hoped that he could stay his attraction long enough so that he wouldn’t be so smitten that he would crash upon the rocks of the siren’s lair; but he already knew that being in the presence of a man like Castiel, was going to make that a very difficult feat to accomplish.


	6. Painted in Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! I'm back!! I am home from my vacation so I'm going to be trying to get out regular updates from now on. I'm not sure what day I'm going to pick for weekly updates, but once I know, you'll know. School starts up again for me in about three weeks so once that happens updates may be back to fluctuating because I will have to focus on school work, but I will be trying to keep to a regular schedule if I can.   
> I just want to say that this chapter is very heavy on the torture so be prepared for that.   
> But anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think! I'll see y'all again soon :)

Castiel raised his chin and faced Malachi with every ounce of defiance he had in him. No matter what they did to him, he wasn’t going to cave; he couldn’t do that to Inias. 

Malachi twirled the knife menacingly between his fingers as he came to a stop in front of Castiel. “Hmm,” he hummed as his eyes flicked over Castiel’s body. “Where should I begin?”

Cas knew begging him not to do this wasn’t going to get him anywhere, Malachi had a fire in his eyes that made shivers run up Castiel’s spine. He didn’t dare answer the question, it was clear it was rhetorical anyway, instead he sat back and met Malachi’s burning gaze. 

Malachi regarded him carefully. “You’re a defiant one, aren’t you? I love when they’re defiant, it makes it so much more fun to break them.” Another hum escaped the man’s mouth and then he brought his knife forward and Castiel prepared himself to feel the bite of the blade. 

But it didn’t come. 

Instead, Malachi let the blade tear through the fabric of his shirt, slicing it right now the middle from the collar to the bottom. The room was cold, and Castiel could feel it wash across his exposed skin in a harsh whisper. Malachi flashed him a grin. “That’s better, now I have more to work with.” Malachi stepped back and assessed Castiel’s chest, as if he were a painter, deciding which part of the canvas to paint first. 

The next time his blade came forward, Castiel felt the cold steel of it dip into his good shoulder just as Malachi spoke. “I think we’ll leave that bullet wound alone for the time being, don’t want that getting infected, then we’ll never get anything out of you.” 

The blade sunk in just deep enough that Castiel had to actually bite his lip to keep from calling out. 

“I’m going to ask you a few questions, and for every answer you refuse to give, the deeper I’m going to push this knife. Do you understand?”’ 

Castiel managed a small nod and Malachi grinned. 

“Good. So, tell me Castiel, what did your husband tell you about this mission?” 

Cas took a moment to take a deep breath before he looked up at Malachi. “Nothing, just that he was going overseas.” The blade inched deeper and moved about a centimeter to the right and Castiel’s eyebrows knitted in a wince. 

“Are you sure about that? Don’t want to change your answer?” 

“I swear that’s the truth,” he replied through gritted teeth, even as Malachi’s knife shifted another centimeter across his chest. 

“We’ll come back to that one. Did Inias leave anything with you, anything at all?” 

Cas opened his mouth to answer but Malachi once again moved the knife and Castiel’s response was lost to a soft gasp as pain shot through him. “No,” he bit out. 

Malachi leaned down and let his lips brush gently against the shell of Castiel’s ear. His warm breath chilled Castiel to the bone as he whispered, “I can do this all day and I won’t tire of it, you on the other hand, you might bleed out by the time I’m finished. If you want to live, I think you should try to rack that brain of yours for some answers. You can’t have been in the dark about all of it.” 

“I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to tell you that Inias didn’t tell me anything, or  _ give me  _ anything. He was always careful about matters like that, specifically for this reason.  _ I don’t know anything _ .” 

Malachi didn’t hesitate to show his displeasure of Cas’ answer, and the knife found its way fully across Castiel’s chest, raking a stream of red in its wake. Cas couldn’t keep the small groan of pain from escaping his lips; Malachi’s eyes flashed in delight at the noise and he quickly drew another deep line across the first one, crisscrossing them like an X. 

“Let’s try another question,” Malachi said, his tone was soft and a smile was on his lips, as if he were a teacher giving an oral exam to his student. “What did Inias tell you about the dinner he attended the week before he left?”

Castiel squinted in confusion. “What does that banquet have to do with anything?” 

“It has to do with  _ everything _ , Castiel. Now,  _ answer the question _ .”

“Nothing really, he said he couldn’t say anything. He told me he met the President, that’s all.” Cas didn’t see any reason not to be truthful about that, people in Inias’ profession often met important government figures.

Malachi hummed in thought. “Yes, he did meet President Roman, but did he tell you what they discussed?”

Castiel shook his head. “No.”

Malachi didn’t seem to like that answer, so he set about cutting into every expanse of skin that he could find in front of him. Castiel felt every slice as the blade dove into his skin and drew blood into the air. “You’re sure about that? He told you  _ nothing _ !?”

“I  _ swear! _ ” Castiel gasped as he felt tears prick at his eyes, Malachi had dug the blade in at least an inch deep just above Castiel’s ribs. 

“Malachi!” 

Naomi’s voice made Malachi freeze and Castiel felt his grip on the knife slip. “Naomi,” he said with a fake smile. 

“If you keep going at this rate, you’ll kill him before he tells us anything,” she snapped as she stepped forward, heels clacking against the cement floor.

She held out a clear vile that held some sort of milky substance and handed it to Malachi. Castiel couldn’t see it well enough, but there was something familiar about the liquid in the vile.

“This might help loosen his tongue.” Malachi reached out to take the vile but Naomi pulled it away slightly. “ _ Don’t  _ kill him, you hear?” 

Malachi sighed. “Yes, of course.” 

Naomi let the vile dip into Malachi’s hand and then she was gone, the echo of her heels following her as she walked away. He tore his eyes from Naomi’s retreating figure and let them refocus on Malachi as he stepped up to his cart and pulled a syringe from the assortment of tools in front of him. Carefully, he filled the syringe with the milky substance and then turned back to Castiel, needle poised at the ready. 

“Don’t look so concerned, it’s only truth serum,” Malachi said with a small grin as he lined up the needle with a vein in Castiel’s arm. “Although I hear it hurts like a bitch, especially if you try to resist it. So how about you make this easier for both of us and answer honestly when I ask you a question.” 

Truth serum. Castiel could deal with truth serum. That was another thing that Inias had  _ insisted  _ on including in their training sessions. 

_ “The government loves truth serum, Cas, you need to be ready.” _

_ Castiel rolled his eyes slightly as Inias held up a small vile of a creamy liquid. “Are you sure I need to do this?”  _

_ “Yes it’s imperative that you learn to resist it. Now, I’m only going to give you a small dose, but it’s going to hurt.”  _

_ Castiel nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “Okay.”  _

_ “Now, once it’s in your system, it’s going to make you very calm and relaxed when you don’t fight it. If you fight it it’ll hurt more, but you  _ need  _ to fight it, Castiel. Pick something to focus on and make that the center of your mind. Every time I ask a question, don’t just answer blindly, think about it and answer what  _ you  _ want to answer. Understand?”  _

_ “Yes.”  _

Castiel had gone through weeks of training with Inias until he could control the serum and was able to answer questions as normally as he could. Now, as the serum entered his body, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. No matter how many times Inias had given him the serum, it never hurt any less. He could feel it spreading through him slowly, from the point in his arm that Malachi had driven the needle all the way through, to the rest of his body. It was a slow process, each minute that passed only seemed to make it hurt more.

It felt like his blood was on fire, every blood vessel seemed to be trying to pop. Sweat broke out on his forehead and for a moment he forgot about the other wounds Malachi had inflicted on him, that pain was minuscule compared to what he was feeling right now as the serum worked to overtake him. A small whimper escaped his lips and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain. Malachi cackled cruelly at him as he writhed in the chair, straining against the rope holding him down. 

Castiel took a steadying breath as the fierce tingling in his body started to subside to a slightly less fierce prickle. When he opened his eyes, Malachi was standing in front of him, knife held loosely in his hand. 

“Let’s start easy, shall we? Is your name Castiel Novak?” 

The serum rushed through his body like a calming breeze and he felt it take a hold of him. He heard Inias’ voice in his ears telling him to pick something to focus on. He pictured Inias’ face and then nodded. “Yes.” 

“And your husband's name was Inias?”

“Yes.”

“What color are your eyes?” 

“Blue.” 

Malachi nodded in satisfaction. “Wonderful, let’s try a harder question. Did you know anything about what Inias was doing overseas?” 

_ Yes _ . The serum whispered to him.  _ Say YES _ . 

He envisioned Inias by his side, a hand on his shoulder and his voice calming beside his ear.  _ “Don’t give them what they want,”  _ he whispered. 

“I didn’t know anything,” Castiel replied as calmly as he could. The serum poked at him, recognizing the lie on his tongue, but he reigned in the pain, remembering all those nights with Inias showing him how to keep his focus. 

Malachi pouted at him. “You’re  _ sure _ ?”

“Yes.” That response came quicker and the serum didn’t pick up on the lie, it let him float by, only holding limply onto him, not enough to bruise. 

“What about the things he left with you when he went on this mission. Did he leave anything important in your possession? We know he sent something before he died, what did he send you?” 

_ Yes. He left a memory stick!  _ The serum screamed at him. 

Inias’ hand tightened on his shoulder and Castiel looked over at him, meeting his steady gaze.  _ “It’s okay, Cas, I’m right here, just breathe.”  _ Castiel took a deep breath as the serum snaked around him, filling him up with pain. 

“No, he left me with nothing. And he didn’t send me anything either.” 

“Alright, that’s it!” Malachi growled, the knife in his hand was suddenly inches from his face. “I  _ know  _ you’re lying.  _ You have to be _ . Inias wouldn’t have left without putting precautions in place.” 

“I’m not lying,” Castiel said easily. “He left me with nothing, he told me nothing.” 

That earned him another slice from the blade. It tore through the other rows of cuts on his chest and made him hiss in pain. “Tell the  _ truth _ !”

“That’s enough, Malachi,” Naomi said calmly as she entered the room again, Uriel at her side. Malachi obediently stepped aside but it was clear he would have cut into Castiel all night if he could have. “I think Castiel has had enough for today. You can pick this up three days from now. We’ll give him some time to think over everything that’s happened today. Untie him and bring him back to his cell.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Malachi mumbled. 

Uriel came over to help Malachi, and soon Castiel was free, if only for a brief moment of time before he was bound again and the all too familiar black bag was shoved back over his head. 

Castiel couldn’t walk. His legs gave out under him and only the harsh grips of Uriel and Malachi kept him from hitting the floor. The truth serum had completely taken over any and all motor functions that his body had and refused to let him move of his own accord. Malachi and Uriel didn’t seem to care that he couldn’t walk, they just dragged him out of the room, his head bowed towards the floor and his legs trailing limply behind him. 

The blood that was slipping down his chest from Malachi’s blade dripped steadily onto the floor as they moved down the hall, Castiel could hear each droplet hitting the ground with a  _ plunk _ . Finally, they threw Castiel into his cell, untied his hands, and left. 

Cas moaned and rolled onto his back and gingerly touched the wounds on his chest with his fingers. The torn flesh hissed at him from the contact and he let out another groan from the pain. The truth serum was still making him feel like he’d been stuck by three hundred porcupine quills; whenever he moved, a flash of pain snapped through him. All he seemed to have the strength to do was curl into a ball on the floor. 

He seemed to doze in and out of consciousness but when hands started to wrap around him he struggled awake. His vision was blurry and everything around him seemed to be spinning on an axel. The face of a strange man came briefly into focus and then went back to being a fuzzy blur. He could feel himself being lifted onto something with wheels and then he was moving, the hallway going by in streaks of gray. The next thing he registered was a bright light shining on him, a soft prick of a needle in his arm, and then he blacked out again.

When Castiel awoke, he was back in his cell, bandages covered his chest and the last of the truth serum’s effects were fading from his body. He sat up, but instantly wanted to lie back down when the wounds on his chest protested in violent hitches of pain. He grit his teeth and pushed through it so he could get a drink of water, but once he was horizontal again, he shut his eyes and tried to control his breathing. 

He could tell that the wounds had been stitched, but that they’d probably only put him under anesthesia so they could work without him blindly lashing out and preventing them from getting close to him, without anesthesia he would have inevitably bled out. If he could have stayed conscious he was certain they’d have loved to add that extra bit of pain to his torture, but instead they decided that they’d stitch him up and send him back to his cell without pain medication. 

There wasn’t much Castiel could do except try to sleep so he didn’t have to feel the after effects of having real needles slipping through his chest in a thousand different places. But sleep seemed to have a torture of its own lined up for him, for the minute he shut his eyes the nightmares began. 

_ Inias’ face swam before him, glittering in blood. It was everywhere, dripping off every part of Inias, and every wall; the sound of gunshots rang out in the background. Screams shattered glass nearby and Castiel ducked to avoid the flying shards. When he looked back up, Inias was still standing there, bloody, with a vacant expression on his face.  _

_ “Castiel,” he whispered.  _

_ Something shiny glinted in his hands and he held it out to Castiel. He squinted at it in the faint sunlight that was coming through the shattered windows. It was the memory stick.  _

_ “Take it,” Inias gasped.  _

_ “What do I do with it?” Castiel asked as he reached for it with shaking hands. _

_ Blood dripped from Inias’ mouth as he spoke. “Keep it safe, or die trying,” Inias responded, he appeared unhindered by the state he was in.  _

_ The second Castiel pulled his hand away from Inias’ the gunfire got closer and then Inias’ body was shaking against every bullet that was put through his chest.  _

_ “NO!” Castiel screamed as Inias fell forward.  _

_ Memory stick forgotten, Castiel hurried to catch his husband and lower him to the floor. Unseeing eyes stared back at him and a sob wrenched its way out of his mouth. Blood slicked his hands as he tried in vain to apply pressure to the many wounds, but he knew it was hopeless. Inias was dead.  _

_ And then suddenly, he wasn’t. There was more blood this time, the bullet holes that had just torn through his body continued to ooze blood, but Inias seemed indifferent to everything. The memory stick was once again in his hand. _

_ “Castiel,” he whispered. “Take it.”  _

_ “No, please,” he cried as he sank to his knees, Inias’ hand was held out to him again, the memory stick the only thing between them.  _

_ “Take it,” Inias repeated, harsher this time.  _

_ “Inias, please,” Castiel sobbed.  _

_ “Take it!” Inias hissed, shoving the memory stick at him until Castiel could do nothing else but remove it from his husband's hand. “Keep it safe, or die trying.” _

_ Three more bullet wounds entered Inias’ chest and he collapsed on top of Castiel. Castiel stared blankly at the memory stick, and then at his dead husband, again he bent over his body, pawing at his chest helplessly, but soon enough Inias was standing again, face pale from blood loss and memory stick magically back in his hand. _

_ Castiel recognized it for what it was, an endless loop in which he’d have to watch his husband die, over and over.  _

_ Ten more times it happened. Inias offered the stick, Castiel was forced to take it, Inias died and then came back to life. And then, finally, as Inias was calling his name, he woke up.  _

Blood was on his hands and he scrambled back against the wall of the cell, terror slicing through him. It took him a moment to realize that he’d torn through his bandages during the night and had been picking at the stitches. The beds of his fingernails were caked in blood and he could feel the points in the wounds where he’d dug his fingers in. Desperately, he clutched the shredded bandages back to his chest, but at that moment the door clicked open and Naomi stepped through. 

“Are we going to have to start restraining you during your sleep?” she asked as she clicked her tongue at him in distaste. 

“I- I was- there was- I-Inias” Castiel stammered, still trying to get his brain to catch up with reality, that he’d been dreaming. 

“You were having a nightmare,” Naomi said. “And now we need to re-bandage your wounds or you’ll get an infection, and we can’t be having that. We do actually need you alive.” With a snap of her fingers, a man dressed in a white lab coat came into the cell. 

He advanced towards Castiel and he could only sit back and let the man work on him. Soon, he was bandaged again and the man was gone, leaving him alone with Naomi. “What do you want now?” he growled. 

Naomi’s expression softened and she smiled at him. “How are you doing, Castiel?” 

Cas scoffed at her and narrowed his eyes. “What kind of question is that? How do you  _ think  _ I’m doing? I think it’s my turn to ask the questions, number one being, how long am I going to be stuck here?”

“Until you tell us what we need to know.” 

“I’ve already  _ told you _ . You just won’t take no for an answer. I don’t  _ know anything _ .” 

“We highly doubt that.”

“So, what then, you’re going to flay me alive until I die?” 

“If that’s what it takes,” Naomi responded icily.

“Why won’t you just  _ listen to me _ when I tell you I know  _ nothing  _ about Inias’ plans when he was overseas, I left me with nothing. And you won’t even tell me how he died.” His voice broke on the last word of his sentence and he had to pause to blink away tears. 

“He was shot,” Naomi replied curtly. 

Castiel’s nightmare flashed before his eyes and he swallowed thickly. “Why?”

Naomi sighed. “He was hacking into some very important networks and we know he sent something out right before he died. This is where you come in, as you’re the only possible contact he could have had.” She took a step towards him, her eyes pleading. “You  _ must  _ tell us what he sent you. It’s important, Castiel, it threatens the nation.” 

“He didn’t send me anything,” Cas snarled. “So stop asking me the same questions, you’re only going to get the same answers.” 

“Please,” Naomi pleaded. “Lives are at stake.” 

“Why are you so certain he sent something?” 

“We know his phone was active before he died, there was a large data message sent from it, but we can’t get past the encryption to track where it went. Our only logical assumption was that it went to you. So, please stop lying to me and tell me what he sent and where it is. We’ve searched your house, looked through your computer, tablets, cell phone, there was nothing there. So where have you hidden the message?” 

It took a lot for Castiel to push down the panic that was slowly rising in him like an incoming tidal wave. She knew about everything, but all he could continue to do was continue to play dumb. 

“How many fucking times do we have to go through this!? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t have anything!”

Naomi huffed but nodded slowly. “If that’s the way you want to continue to play it, then fine. I’ll see you again in three days' time.”

Castiel flinched slightly at the loud bang the door made as it slid shut, but once the lock clicked into place he laid back down on his bed with a sigh. 

***Two Weeks Later***

Chains dug deep into Castiel’s wrists and his feet just barely touched the ground. A hand connected with his face and he groaned into the punch, spitting out blood onto the floor. 

“What was the last thing Inias said to you?” Malachi asked again, it was the fifth time he’d asked the question. 

“I don't remember,” Castiel rasped in response. “I love you, I think.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean!” Malachi growled. “Your last conversation, what did he say? Did he tell you anything important?” 

It took a lot of strength, but Castiel managed to raise his head and look at Malachi. “No. But with the concussion I probably have, I’m not sure I’m remembering things correctly.”

“You little  _ bitch _ !” Malachi screamed. When his fist came forward again, darkness swamped over him.

The next time Castiel woke up, it was from an assault of cold water being poured over him. He coughed and spluttered, spitting out a mixture of blood and water. “Wake up sunshine,” Malachi drawled. 

Castiel blinked water out of his eyes and tried to clear his blurry vision with a half-hearted shake of his head. Water droplets scattered across the room and dripped down his face, crawling towards the ground. 

“We know you’ve hidden something from us, Castiel. All you have to do is tell us where it is and we’ll let you go.” 

Cas shook his head again. “I have nothing to tell you, and don’t make promises you can’t keep, I know you’ll kill me either way.” 

“We’re people of our word, Castiel,” Malachi said soothingly. “We  _ will  _ let you go. You’ll be missing a few of your memories, but you’ll be allowed to return to civilization.” 

Castiel bared his teeth. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, I can’t help you there, but  _ you  _ can help  _ me _ . All of this suffering will end if you just give up the location of the data Inias sent.” 

Castiel was beyond frustrated at this point. They’d been going around in circles for two weeks, the cut of a knife here, the poke of a needle there, the same questions over and over. 

“For the  _ millionth time,  _ I don’t have a location to give you, because he  _ didn’t send me anything! _ ” 

The burning tip of a blade slid down his abdomen. “I’m not inclined to believe you.” 

“Well then we’re going to be stuck here for a very long time.” 

Malachi’s jaw clenched dangerously and Castiel recognized that there was going to be a lot of slicing and punching for the next five minutes. 

All he could do was hang there and take it. Each punch sent him stumbling backwards, he tried to get his footing on the cold floor, but his feet wouldn’t fully reach and his arms felt like they were going to be pulled straight from their sockets.

This was how the next week went, and the week after that, and the week after that, and so on. Castiel was certain that the only way he was going to get out of here, was in death, but at this point, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. There was nothing left to care about in the world, except that memory stick and if he had to die to keep the government from getting their hands on it, then so be it.


	7. Down to The River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I know it's currently Monday, but I just wanted to say that I'm going to be trying to get out updates every Sunday now. Please enjoy this chapter and I'll see y'all next week!

Dean watched from the rickety table as Cas walked carefully around the cabin, arms outstretched to balance himself if needed and brow furrowed in concentration. 

“You’re doing great there, pal,” Dean said as he sipped at his morning coffee. 

“I’m better than I was, that’s for sure,” Castiel replied as he managed to get over to the table and sit down in the other chair. 

“How are you feeling today?” 

Castiel shrugged. “Good.” 

“Your wounds aren’t hurting too much, right?” 

Cas offered him a smile. “I’m good, Dean. Thank you.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes at him but nodded. “So, are you still dead set on not telling me anything about how you got here, and what happened to you?”

“My answer is still the same since the last time you asked,” Castiel replied curtly. 

“Come on, man!” Dean whined. “I’m going to go mad out of curiosity.” 

Castiel’s eyes flicked over him carefully, squinting at him slightly. “I think you’ll live.” 

“You’re impossible,” Dean muttered. 

“I’ve been told that once or twice,” Castiel said with a small chuckle.

Dean sighed and took another sip of his coffee. “I should really take another look at you and make sure everything's healing okay.”

“Dean, you checked yesterday.” 

“I know, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.” 

“I feel fine, I promise,” Cas replied. 

“Still, I think it’s a good idea.” 

Cas rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine.” 

Castiel raised his shirt above his head, only wincing slightly as he lifted his arms. Dean had taken off most of the big bandages last week, but there were still a few smaller ones left to keep the wounds from getting infected again. Cas sat patiently while Dean moved over to him and assessed the healing wounds. 

He took care to be gentle as he peeled the remaining bandages away, and allowed his eyes to travel up and down the wounds. Now that the infection was gone, they were healing nicely. He’d removed the stitches the other week and it was good to see that the skin was starting to come back together. Cas would have some nasty scars, but he was going to live and that’s what mattered. 

Dean moved his eyes away from the claw marks and dipped down to look at the cauterized bullet wound. It was a mass of flesh and nothing more, still red but a lot less angry looking and clearly healing. Dean redressed the wounds and placed bandages back on them before standing up. 

“Everything’s looking ship shape,” he declared. 

“Wonderful,” Cas replied with a smile.

“You’re sure you’re not in too much pain?” 

“I’ve been in far worse pain than this, Dean. I’m okay.” 

“You’re not helping with my curiosity, you know.” 

Cas smiled at him, a glint to his eyes. “I live to be a mystery to you.” 

“Clearly. You’re sure you’re not a criminal, right?” 

“I’m not a criminal,” Cas replied smoothly. 

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. “Okay.” 

“If I were, I’d have killed you by now.” 

“Or you’re just toying with me and gaining my trust until you turn on me.” 

Cas rolled his eyes. “Like I’d turn on the guy who saved my life.” 

Dean shrugged. “Hey, it happens.” 

“You must watch a lot of movies.” 

“Guilty.” 

“Mhm, makes sense.” 

Dean flushed slightly and looked away from Cas, back at his empty mug of coffee. “So, uh, personal question, but how old are you?” 

Cas blinked at him in surprise. “Thirty.” 

“Two years older than me, then,” Dean said. 

“You have quite an extensive knowledge of how to save a man’s life for a twenty-eight year old.” 

“My Mom was a medic in the U.S. army,” Dean said after a moment. 

“I see.” 

“She died when I was four. My Dad didn’t even meet her when he went overseas, they met back in America after they’d both finished their tours and effectively ‘retired’. Mom became an investigative journalist and Dad a mechanic. But anyway, they met in a bar and got to swapping war stories, and the rest is history as they say. But Mom started teaching Dad things she’d learned and after she died, Dad taught Sam and I everything she’d taught him. He didn’t want what happened to Mom to happen to anyone else.” 

“What did happen?” 

Dean sniffed and stared at the bottom of his empty mug. “She was robbed. Shot in the chest by someone that got the jump on her.” A bitter laugh fell from his lips, “Funny, right? A soldier dying from a gunshot wound off the battlefield.” 

“I don’t find it humorous, Dean,” Cas said quietly. 

Dean sniffed. “Yeah, well, she bled out, in the street, while people walked past and did nothing. My Dad let revenge consume him. He tried to track down the man who did it, finally found him a few years ago. Shot him point blank in the head. He’s in prison now, but whenever I visit him he tells me that it was worth it, because Mom’s killer was gone. But anyway, he trained Sam and I to be little soldiers of our own, taught us weaponry, medicine, anything he could think of so that if we ever saw someone bleeding out on the street we’d be able to save them. It wasn’t much of a childhood, we were always moving, Dad’s hunt for Azazel -that was his name- took us all over the country, the guy never stayed in one place for long; and when we weren’t moving, Dad was having us shoot cans in the woods.” 

“I’m sure it wasn’t enjoyable, but who am I to complain, when everything your father taught you allowed you to save my life.” 

Dean offered Cas a half smile. “Yeah, I guess that part actually was useful.” 

“Since we’re sharing tragic backstories and all, my Dad left me when I was a baby, and Mom died when I was six. My brother and I bounced around foster care for years-” 

“Did you not have any other family?” Dean asked, incredulous. 

“An aunt, but they never did find her,” Cas replied. 

“Damn.” 

“Yeah. Gabe and I never stayed anywhere for long, so I relate to moving around as a kid.” 

“Not as fun as it sounds, is it?” 

“Certainly not,” Cas agreed. 

“Alright, so what happened, did a nice family finally adopt you?” 

Cas let out a dry chuckle. “No. Gabriel reached eighteen before that and became my legal guardian. He took any and all money the foster system would give him and then we hightailed it out of there. Gabe went to college and became a baker, and then I went to school for teaching.” 

“So both our childhoods sucked,” Dean confirmed.

“Just a little.” 

“What made you choose to be a teacher of all things? No offense, but that kind of sounds like Hell to me.”

“It is,” Cas said with a small laugh. “But I did it because I wanted to do what no one did for me. I never had good teachers, they didn’t keep my attention or present subject matter in an interesting way. I wanted to become a teacher because I liked teaching others about history, but it was also because I wanted to be able to establish a connection with young teenagers that were around my age when I was in foster care and that are going through what I went through, so that I can help them in any way I can. 

“There are five students that I know about in my classes that are currently in foster care, and I have lunch with those five students once a week every week, and they give me updates on everything that’s happening in their lives. I can’t tell you how many foster parents I went through that were abusive in one way or another, I am creating these safe spaces for students to talk with me, someone who has been through what they are going through and who has lived through it, and I am basically allowing them to have an out. If they tell me about something unethical that happened in their home, it’s my duty as a member of the faculty to report it. In reporting it, there will be an investigation, and sometimes the kids are lucky enough to get out. Of course it’s not just foster children I look out for, I care about all my students and I keep a close eye on all of them and do what I can to help them. So, to really answer your question, Dean, I became a teacher so I could help people.”

“Wow,” Dean breathed out as he stared at Cas in slight surprise, but also admiration. “You actually sound like a decent human being.” 

“Did I ever give you the impression that I wasn’t?” Cas asked, a slight glint of humor in his eyes. 

“Yeah, once, when you were unconscious on the ground covered in blood and a bullet wound.” Cas cracked a smile at that and Dean narrowed his eyes at him. “ I’m still not sure I’m fully convinced you’re not a serial killer, but I definitely thought you were a criminal of some sort.”

“I’m not a serial killer, Dean.” 

Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at him, leaning forward in his chair as he did so. “But that’s  _ exactly  _ what a serial killer would say. You even have a tragic backstory.” 

“So do you.” 

Dean smirked. “Touche. Did it ever occur to you that maybe  _ I’m  _ the killer here.”

Cas shook his head, an almost fond-like smile on his face. “Not once.” 

Dean frowned. “Yeah, why’s that?” 

“You wouldn’t have worked so tirelessly to save me if you were just planning to kill me later.” 

“Now that’s not entirely true. I could be one of those killers that likes to make my victim  _ feel  _ safe and protected, make them feel indebted by saving their life, but then I’m actually a psycho that likes to hunt humans for sport.” 

Cas leaned across the table, blue eyes analyzing every inch of Dean’s face. Dean swallowed under the scrutiny, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips. “ _ Are  _ you a ‘psycho that likes to hunt humans for sport’?” Cas asked seriously. 

Dean only managed to keep a straight face for about two seconds before he snorted and laughed. “No, but I  _ could’ve  _ been.” 

“Yes, you give off a very serial killer persona, I was terrified the moment I opened my eyes,” Cas said, deadpan. Dean laughed again and Cas cracked a smile. “So it looks like we’re both living in fear of the other being under false pretenses.” 

“Looks like,” Dean replied. 

“Is this the point where I kill you?” Cas asked, his tone once again serious, as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer to his question. 

“Hold on there, Cas, who’s killing who now? Am I the serial killer, or are you?” 

“Has it occurred to you that we’re  _ both  _ serial killers?”

Dean snorted. “Wouldn’t that be funny, two serial killers in a cabin in the woods, who will be the killer and who will become the victim?” Dean paused as his smile faded, a thought racing through his mind at breakneck speed. “Hang on, that’s a fucking  _ awesome  _ idea for a story!” he exclaimed as he moved over to his typewriter, which was sitting on the floor by the bed. He sat down cross legged in front of it and fumbled for a piece of paper before he set about typing.

“You never did tell me what you’re writing about,” Cas said as his eyes tracked Dean’s fingers as they moved across the keys. 

Dean froze. “Oh, uh, well, a lot of things.” He finished writing out the idea and then turned back to Cas, color already rising on his cheeks. “I don’t actually have a concrete idea right now.” 

“Why is that?”

“Well,” Dean began, his lost smile returning, “this guy nearly died on my doorstep and I was sort of busy trying to keep him alive.” 

Cas’ head tilted to the side, a movement that Dean was starting to recognize as something that Castiel did quite a lot, and he regarded him carefully. “As much as I think you wish you could blame your writer's block on me, I don’t think that’s the reason. I see you slip outside to write every now and then, but you never come back inside with more than a page.” 

Dean sighed and dragged a hand down his face as his eyes fluttered to the ceiling. “That’s because I do have an idea, but it’s kind of… personal.” 

Cas squinted in confusion at that. “I find that personal stories are the most impactful, whether they’re rewritten as works of fiction or told as they actually happened.” 

Dean winced slightly but met Cas’ gaze shyly. “The problem is that it’s not personal to me, per se.” 

“Oh.” 

“It’s… personal to you.” 

Surprise sparked in Castiel’s eyes and he gaped at Dean. “Me?” 

Dean scrubbed at the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah. I wrote out our first meeting, slightly differently, with different names and a different setting, but the same beginning story, and it’s just… stuck with me. I can’t seem to shake the idea.” Cas opened his mouth to say something, but Dean leaped to cut him off first. “Before you say anything, I’m not going to use it. I wasn’t even planning to talk to you about this, it’s not my story to tell and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, you don’t even know me, I don’t even know you. It’s… inappropriate and insensitive.” 

“Dean,” Cas said calmly. “It’s not just my story, it’s yours. You can tell it if you want to, who am I to stop you.” 

Dean babbled on as Cas was finishing his sentence, suddenly deciding that eye contact was not the way to go anymore. “I knew you’d be uncomfortable by it so I--- wait what?” 

“You can use the story, Dean.” 

Dean stared at Cas for a moment, trying to digest the words he’d just heard come from the other man’s mouth. “Seriously?” 

“Of course.” 

“I- I don’t know what to say. I really thought you’d freak out and think I was some crazy freak who used others' pain for my own profit.” 

“I’ve hardly known you for a few weeks, but I know you’re not the kind of man who would do that.”

Dean couldn’t help but feel the tightness in his chest release. “You’ll really let me use this part of your story? I’m really only planning on using our first meeting.” 

“That is fine by me, yes.” 

Dean brightened at that, a smile spreading across his cheeks.“Awesome! Thanks, Cas!”

“Are we both going to be serial killers in this story?” Cas asked in amusement as Dean set out the paper beside his typewriter that had the beginning of his story on it. 

“That’s  _ an  _ idea, yeah.”

“An interesting one, indeed.” 

“I’m glad you think so.” 

“May I ask you a question?” 

“Shoot.” 

“Why are you writing on a typewriter?”

“Well, this ain’t exactly a five star hotel, Cas. I’m fresh out of power outlets and wifi.”

“You could write by hand.” 

“Yeah right. My handwriting sucks, Cas. Even  _ I _ can barely read that shit.” 

“But the typewriter must have been difficult to get out here.” 

“It was, but I didn’t carry it out here by hand, I used a wheelbarrow. Not exactly ideal, but it got my stuff here so that’s all that matters.”

“So, do you come here every summer?” 

Dean shook his head. “No, this isn’t actually my cabin. I’m renting it.” 

“You’re renting it?” 

“Yeah, I needed to get out of my apartment. This guy was offering up this place for cheap, so I thought, what the Hell.” 

“Well I’m glad you decided to come out here,” Cas said. 

“Me too,” Dean replied with a smile. 

Cas smiled back and Dean’s stomach did a somersault. As the days had progressed, he’d only started to like Castiel more and it was hard to ignore how handsome he was now that he was regaining much of what he had lost in his fight for his life. Sometimes, it took a lot of effort for him to look away from Cas, now being one of those times.

“So, uh,” Dean said as he got to his feet and moved back over to the table. “What do you think about heading over to the river, I need to get some more water and I’d love to wash off a bit too.” 

“I think that sounds like a great idea. It will be nice to bathe without just a washcloth.” 

Dean laughed at that. “Yeah. Well, I think you’re finally able to walk the distance, it’s only about a three minute walk.” 

“Let’s go then.”

“Just let me know if you need to stop at all,” Dean said as they headed for the door. 

“I will, but I think I’ll manage.” 

Cas headed out the door but Dean paused to pick up the water bucket on the way and pulled his backpack over his shoulders; the bag held towels, soap, and fresh pairs of boxers. He followed Cas outside and found him waiting by the fire pit. 

“It’s this way,” Dean said as he headed off towards a well trodden path. 

Cas followed at his heels and they walked in silence. Dean kept glancing back at Cas every now and then and eventually Cas sighed. “Dean, I’m fine.” 

“Sorry, just making sure.” 

“If I wasn’t, I would have asked to stop.” 

“Can’t blame a guy for being concerned. A week ago you could barely walk five steps by yourself.” 

“I’ve come a long way since then.” 

“I know. We’re almost there anyway.” 

“Yes, I can tell. The sound of the river has gotten considerably louder.” 

Dean led Cas out of the trees and into a small clearing, revealing the fast flowing river that fed the waterfall nearby. “Welcome to the river,” Dean announced as he set his water bucket under the steady stream. 

“How do you know the river water is good to drink?” Cas asked as he sat down beside Dean. 

“Because we’re not dead yet,” Dean answered with a cocky grin. 

“Dean, be serious,” Cas said. 

“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll tell you in a minute.” He pulled the bucket from the water and set it down in the shade of a tree before pulling off his shirt and covering the top of the bucket so no leaves, twigs, or bugs could find their way into the water. Cas was waiting patiently for him and Dean took his place beside him. His hand dipped into the cold water and when he pulled it away, the sun glinted off the glassy sheen on his fingers. “For one thing, I know it’s safe to drink because it’s fast flowing and clear. Most water sources that move quickly are usually safe to drink from, however some rivers can still contain bacteria and other viruses that could make us sick.” 

“How do you know this river isn’t contaminated?” 

“I don’t,” Dean replied simply. “There are other factors to why I think this river is relatively safe, like the fact that I’ve seen animals drink from it and that there are plenty of rocks that the water can be filtered through to weed out any contaminants. But for the most part, I think this river is safe. The guy that owns the cabin said it was.” 

“So you just take his word for it?” 

“God no,” Dean said with a chuckle. “I do also take the precaution of adding water purification tablets to the water I collect.” 

Cas’ lips quirked in the smallest smile and Dean grinned at him. “You know you could have just led with that.” 

Dean shrugged. “There’s no fun in that.” 

Without another word, Dean stood up again and headed over to the backpack he’d brought. He dug a purification tablet from the bag and dropped it into the bucket before he returned to Cas with the soap and towels. He began to pull off his shoes and then started to work on his pants. 

When he looked over at Cas he found that the other man was just staring at him and he raised an eyebrow at him. “What?” 

Dean’s voice seemed to shake Cas from his daze and he cleared his throat and looked away. “Nothing, sorry.”

A thought suddenly struck Dean and his fingers fell away from the button on his jeans. “Am I making you uncomfortable? I can go further down the river if you want.” 

“No, Dean, I’m not uncomfortable. It’s just…” 

Dean inched closer to him slightly, trying to read Cas’ expression. “What?” he asked softly. 

“I’m just worried that I might make  _ you  _ uncomfortable,” Cas said quietly, his eyes were still fixed on the river, seemingly unable to meet Dean’s gaze. “I mean, you’re not exactly an unattractive man, Dean.”

_Oh. OH._ Dean’s brain seemed to short circuit for a second because _Cas just called him attractive._ Of course Cas couldn’t possibly be having any sort of feelings for him, and he really shouldn’t be surprised that Cas might find him at least somewhat physically appealing, he’d been informed on multiple occasions that he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes.

__ When he finally got himself under control he swallowed thickly, realizing that maybe he should have thought that with Cas being a gay man and all he might find this situation a bit overwhelming. “It’s okay, Cas. It might have slipped your mind that I’m not exactly straight either. I’m pretty confident that we can both be respectful of each other.” 

Cas offered him a weak smile and nodded. “You’ve already been more than respectful to me and I have no problem returning the favor.” 

Dean grinned “Great.” He didn’t hesitate to strip of the rest of his clothes and enter the freezing river. It came up to his waist and when he sat down it covered his chest, up to his neck. “I brought soap and stuff,” he said as he picked up a bar of soap. 

Cas was busy tugging off his shoes but he nodded. “Thanks.” 

“Also, fair warning, the water is cold.” 

Cas looked over at him another smile on his lips. “Thank you for the warning.” 

Dean suddenly found it hard to breathe as Cas stepped out of his pants and moved over to the river. If Dean had thought Cas was handsome in clothing then he wasn’t prepared to see him  _ without  _ clothing. Cas’ shoulders rippled in the sunlight as he bent down to feel the water; he was naturally tan and there was just so much  _ skin  _ that Dean found it hard to look away, even after the conversation they’d just had about being respectful of each other. He could see that there were a few scars on his back as well, which he’d never really noticed before. 

He did manage to tear his eyes away and focus on using the soap to scrub away the sweat and dirt that had gathered on his body. He only heard Cas get into the water but he looked up when Cas drew in a gasp of air. 

“Told you it was cold,” Dean said. 

“Cold is an understatement,” Cas grunted as he situated himself against the river bank. “It feels like I just walked into ice water.” 

“You’ll get used to it in a moment.” 

“Is that before or after I get hypothermia?” Cas asked. 

Dean chuckled. “You won’t get hypothermia. We won’t be in the water long enough for that.” 

“May I have the soap, then?” 

Dean tossed Cas his own bar of soap and then they lapsed into silence, too busy taking care of getting clean to talk. Dean finished scrubbing his body and then switched to shampoo, he lathered his hair thoroughly before taking a gulp of air and then ducking under the flowing water. 

When he resurfaced and wiped water from his eyes, he saw that Cas had just gone under as well. While Cas was busy washing off, Dean stepped from the river and wrapped a towel around his waist. Cas’ head popped out of the water and water droplets fell from his eyelashes as he blinked up at Dean. 

“You all set there?” Dean asked. 

“Yes, I think so.” 

Cas stood to exit the river but he slipped slightly as he tried to use the river bank to pull himself up, Dean quickly reached out to give him a hand. “You okay?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

Dean held out a towel to him and Cas twisted it around his waist before he followed Dean over to a small patch of warm rocks where they sat down to get some of the feeling back into their bodies. “I don’t know about you, but that felt nice.” 

“It did,” Cas agreed. “I don’t think I’ve been fully clean for weeks.” 

“Well, nearly dying will do that to ya.” 

“Yes, it will.” 

Dean shifted on the rocks and let his head fall back towards the sky, shutting his eyes and allowing the sun to shine through the trees onto his face. He took a deep breath and breathed in the fresh forest air but the sound of Cas lying down beside him made him crack open an eye. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” Cas whispered. 

“Mhm,” Dean hummed in agreement. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to come out here. I love nature, sometimes even more than people.” 

Cas chuckled at that, it was a deep, low sound that sent a shiver up Dean’s spine. “I can’t entirely blame you there. Not after what I’ve been through.”

Dean propped himself up on his elbow and faced Cas. “Look, I know you’re not going to tell me what happened, but can I guess?” 

Cas lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I suppose.” 

“You have to tell me if I’m right though,” Dean added. 

Cas sighed. “Fine.” 

“Were you… tortured?” 

Cas drew in a sharp breath of air and Dean knew he’d hit the nail right on the head. He’d been thinking about this theory for a few days now, judging by the healed wounds on Cas’ chest and the way he’d been malnourished and wild with fear. It only made sense that he must have been held somewhere against his will. 

“Yes,” Cas bit out after a moment. 

Now that he knew something for certain, he couldn’t stop the next question that came out of his mouth. “Why?” 

“They thought I knew things. They were right, but I never gave in. I couldn’t. I’d promised Inias.”

_ Holy shit _ . Dean actually couldn’t believe that he was getting some answers out of Cas. They were horrible, traumatic, answers, but Dean couldn’t help himself from asking another question. “So, was it  _ because  _ of Inias?” 

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes.” 

“So was  _ he  _ some kind of secret agent or something?”

Cas let out a small broken laugh. “Or something.” 

“How long were you there?” Dean asked in a whisper. 

“Five months, four days, and three hours,” Cas recited.

“Holy fuck,” Dean gasped. 

Cas nodded stiffly. “Yeah.” 

The sound of Cas’ voice, suddenly sounding so quiet and torn made Dean want to hit himself. “Sorry, I’m being kind of rude, aren’t I?” 

Cas shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” 

“Still, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I can’t imagine what you went through.” 

“You don’t want to imagine it.” 

“I’m sure I don’t, but,” Dean said as he worked to meet Cas’ eyes, angling his head towards the other man. When Cas finally looked over at him, there were a few tears glistening in his eyes. “You survived, not only everything you went through with those people, but a bear attack and a bullet wound, I mean that’s pretty amazing.”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t,” Cas said quietly. 

“Hey, don’t say that,” Dean said, sitting up further. 

A tear slipped down Cas’ cheek and Dean resisted the urge to wipe it away with his thumb. “If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t be putting you in danger right now.” 

“I’m not in danger,” Dean replied. 

“Yes, you are. Every second you spend with me puts you in danger.” 

“Nothing’s happened yet, Cas,” Dean pointed out. 

“That doesn’t mean nothing will,” Cas retorted. “What happened to me… no one should ever have to go through that. If they catch up to me, it could happen to you.” 

“Don’t you think they would have found you by now? It’s been weeks, Cas. I think you’re safe.”

“Just because they haven’t found me yet doesn’t mean they won’t.” 

“But you escaped-” 

“ _ Barely _ ,” Cas interrupted. “They followed me, that’s how I got shot.” 

“Then why didn’t they finish the job?”

“I don’t know,” Cas replied. 

“If they thought you were already dead, then there shouldn’t be anyone coming after you.” 

Cas shook his head. “No, they know I’m alive. They would have checked for my body, and since there was no body to check, they’ll still be looking for me. They have to be, I didn’t escape by luck. They let me go.” 

“If you’re sure-” 

“I am.” 

“Right, well, let’s head back to the cabin then, I could go for some lunch.” 

Cas wiped at his face one more time and then joined Dean by the backpack. They dressed silently and then Dean picked up the water bucket and they headed back through the path. Dean felt uneasy throughout the whole walk. The weight of Cas’ words weren’t settling well in his stomach. Cas was dangerous, not in the serial killer kind of way, but the  _ I know life changing information  _ kind of way. 

Just having one small conversation with Cas about what had happened to him was enough for Dean to know that it had seriously messed him up. It was a miracle the guy could even make it through everyday life with the amount of trauma he must be carrying around. 

Dean still had so many questions, but he wasn’t about to ask them. Instead, he’d just continue to do his best to keep Cas safe and comfortable. If there were people out there looking for Cas, then Dean was going to make damn well sure they didn’t find him.


	8. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's my birthday today! But, instead of receiving gifts, as is the usual birthday fashion, I decided that I'd give you guys a gift instead: the gift of a new chapter :)  
> All I ask in return is that y'all enjoy the chapter, and I'll see you next week!

By now, Castiel was used to staring at blank walls during most hours of the day. By his calculations, he’d been here for just about three months and he couldn’t decide if everyday was worse than the last or if he was just growing numb to the pain. Each day could go one of two ways, either he was hanging in a cold blood stained room, or he was lying in his cell surrounded by nothing. 

Today was an off day, which meant that there was no torture planned for him, he was just supposed to sit in his cell and let his wounds start to heal. They were always so careful with him, inflicting just the right amount of damage to his body but not enough to kill him. Sometimes he wished they’d just let him die, that they’d give up and realize that they weren’t going to get anywhere with him; but of course Naomi and her underlings were never going to give up, and so Castiel continued to be their cutting board while he waited for them to slip up and accidentally kill him. 

Castiel could hardly move around his tiny cell, every part of him ached. A nasty bruise was forming on his jaw, from where Malachi had taken out his frustrations, and there were various wounds littering his body, scattered in severity and pain. Every time he moved, each cut seemed to feel as if someone had poured lemon juice into it. There was a particular gash right between his shoulder blades that hurt like crazy and made sleeping more difficult than it already was. He favored his left leg whenever he walked, having felt the tip of Malachi’s knife slip through the meat of his thigh and almost sink down to the bone. The wound was now stitched and bandaged, but it didn’t eliminate any of the pain. 

Everyday, they left him to think over what had happened to him, what Malachi had  _ done  _ to him, and they would always tell him that they didn’t have to pick this up again, that if he just told them what they wanted to know then they’d let him go. 

Castiel had considered the offer, more than once. Every night he lay in bed, staring at the blank ceiling, thinking about how if he just told them about the memory stick then maybe they really would let him go. He didn’t even know what he was protecting or if it was worth dying over, he was just taking Inias’ word for it. 

He trusted Inias and he still does, but he wanted it to be over. He wanted to wake up knowing that new wounds weren’t going to be inflicted upon him, that the same questions weren’t going to be asked of him. He wanted to go  _ home _ .

Castiel wasn’t sure he even had a home anymore, he was fairly certain that the government must have taken custody over his property and possessions so they could thoroughly search it, they possibly even sold it under false pretenses. Either way, ever since Inias’ death, his house had stopped feeling like home. It was empty and silent. There was nothing left for him there. 

With a sigh, Castiel shifted on his bed, changing his viewpoint of one blank wall to another. Despite his growling stomach, his food tray sat untouched on the floor, his fork stuck in the pile of mashed potatoes. He couldn’t bring himself to eat because he knew if he did he’d just throw it up again. His stomach didn’t seem to like the idea of food and he couldn’t find it in himself to argue with his body. The food wasn’t appetizing either, so it didn’t make it hard not to eat. He was effectively starving himself, but Naomi didn’t seem to care. They wouldn’t let him die, of course, they’d probably force feed him if it got to that point, but Castiel wouldn’t let it get to that point, he was eating enough to get by. A bruised apple here, a bite of meat there, but that was all he could stomach. 

When he wasn’t sleeping, Castiel liked to count the hours as they went by. It offered him something to do and it calmed him down to think that with each passing second he was still breathing, even if he knew he was only alive because they let him be. 

As Castiel was nearing the second hour of his counting, his cell door slid open and Castiel looked up in surprise to find a young boy entering the room. He was probably in his early twenties, with blond hair and blue eyes that seemed to hold something under the surface, something Castiel couldn’t read. 

“You’re new,” Castiel commented as the boy bent to pick up his untouched meal. 

“I am, my name is Samandriel, and I’m going to be the one in charge of your meals from now on.”

“You’re wasting your time then. I don’t eat much.” 

“You should. Naomi doesn’t want you to starve to death.” 

As Samandriel turned to leave, Castiel spoke. “I don’t care what  _ Naomi  _ wants.” 

Samandriel froze by the door and turned back to Castiel, his eyes filled with pity. “I am truly sorry they’re doing this to you.” 

“Why do you care?”

“Because it’s not right,” Samandriel replied. 

The door slammed shut after him and Castiel was once again alone, wondering how a boy like him could end up working for a woman like Naomi. Some people choose the wrong path in life, but they don’t know it’s the wrong path until it’s too late; Castiel had a sneaking suspicion that Samandriel could be one of those people. Despite who he was working for, the boy seemed filled with genuine kindness and Castiel couldn’t shake the look he’d seen in his eyes. There hadn’t just been pity in his eyes, there had been something akin to determination, a tinge of anger maybe? Defiance? Castiel shook the curious thoughts from his head and he let himself fall back down onto his bed, once again staring at the ceiling, and began to count the hours again.

****

The next time the door to his cell opened, Castiel was prepared to be bound, blindfolded, and dragged off to what Castiel was effectively calling the torture chamber, but that wasn’t what happened. Uriel entered the room and set down a small table and a chair before he left to stand guard at the door. 

The clicking of heels told him that a woman was approaching his cell but Naomi was not the one to enter his cell, instead it was a short blond woman. Her hair was twisted into an elegant bun and she wore a tight business-like dress with black heels. She held a briefcase in her hand and a small smile was on her lips. It was clearly supposed to be friendly, but Castiel saw nothing but coldness in the way her smile didn’t touch her eyes. 

“Mr. Novak,” she said, Castiel was only slightly surprised that she had a British accent. She held out her hand to him, the false smile still glued to her face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Castiel only stared at her in amusement, as if she really thought he’d take her hand. When it became clear that Castiel had no intention of exchanging pleasantries, she carefully set the briefcase down on the table and then sat down in the chair, crossing her legs and folding her hands in front of her.

“My name is Toni Bevell and I have been called in from abroad to try to get through to you by using a different method than standard torture procedures.”

Castiel only stared at her, prepared for whatever she might be planning. Toni shifted to open the briefcase and when she turned it to face him he felt a small flicker of fear stir in his stomach. Laying in the case were three different syringes, each with a different colored liquid filling it. One was a light blue, another was a deep purple, and the last was a dark red, almost like blood. The part that made his blood run cold, was that he’d never seen anything like these syringes. He wasn’t prepared for whatever Toni was going to do to him, he couldn’t fall back on Inias’ careful training, for the first time in a while, he was genuinely worried.

Toni’s voice broke into his thoughts and Castiel’s eyes snapped up from the briefcase to look at her. 

“Before we start, I’ve been instructed to give you one last chance to tell us what we want to know. We don’t have to proceed if you speak now.”

Castiel only stared at Toni, lips sealed firmly shut, still refusing to give in. 

“Very well, then. Let’s begin.” Toni flipped open her notebook and set her pen to the page. “For my records, you are Castiel James Novak, husband to Inias Charles Novak, yes?” 

“Yes,” Castiel replied. 

Toni put her pen down on the table and then rose to her feet. Her hands grazed delicately over the light blue syringe and then she picked it up and took a step towards him. “We’re not monsters here, I will tell you what’s in each syringe, and that none of what I give you will have any long lasting effects. This first dose I’m giving you is merely a type of sedative, it will send you into an almost hypnotic state. It will make you susceptible to suggestion, at which point I will give you the second dose, which will induce you into a dream of my choosing. The last dose will bring you out of the dream and back to reality.” 

Castiel’s fear spiked at her words. They were going to take away his control, that was their plan. As Toni stepped carefully up to him and touched the top of the needle to his arm, he knew that he couldn’t let this happen. Fueled by fear, he surged forward, his fist coming up to connect with Toni’s face. 

She stumbled back in surprise, the syringe nearly falling from her hand, but she kept a tight hold to it. Her eyes hardened and she straightened up, wiping blood from her mouth with her free hand. Castiel slid off the bed and moved towards her, intent on destroying the syringe in her hand, but as he got closer the cell door opened and Uriel and Bartholomew entered. 

It didn’t take them long to subdue him. His arms were twisted roughly behind his back as he was slammed up against his cell wall. “How did you think this was going to end?” Uriel asked in his ear. 

Castiel didn’t reply. He knew it was a long shot, he knew he should have been quicker, but he was too weak to fight and so he had to let Uriel cuff him and lead him back to his bed where Bartholomew joined Uriel beside him. They held him steady while Toni stepped up to him, a look of deep malice in her eyes. 

“I should warn you, this will hurt,” she said bitterly. 

If Castiel thought the truth serum felt bad, then he was not prepared for what this silky blue liquid would do to him. It started with his vision. Everything blurred and then refocused and then blurred again and then refocused and so on. Each time he blinked, pain shot through his eyes and his skull started to feel like it was the head of a nail being pounded endlessly by a hammer; he felt like his head was going to explode. Vibrations shook his body and his ears started to ring so loudly that he heard a scream burst through his mouth, the sound seemed so far away, like it was somebody else’s. He wanted to reach up and press his hands to his ears but the handcuffs kept his hands behind his back and so he screamed and struggled against Uriel and Bartholomew, trying to free himself, to no avail.

Finally, it all stopped, the banging, the ringing, the pain, and he felt his whole body sag. Peace washed over him and he couldn’t help but smile at the feeling. He felt warm inside and out, as if he’d just consumed a cup of tea and someone had wrapped a soft blanket around his shoulders. The room slipped away as his eyes fell shut with a happy sigh. He felt like he was falling, but he wasn’t scared, he felt safe; protected. 

From somewhere far away he heard a woman’s voice say,  _ “You can take the cuffs off now, he won’t be needing them for the next part of the procedure.”  _

Castiel hardly felt the pressure against his wrists fall away. The sound of retreating footsteps echoed in his ears but he couldn’t seem to open his eyes to see who was leaving, his eyelids appeared to be made of lead and felt too heavy to open. 

_ “Castiel? Can you hear me?”  _

The woman’s voice he’d heard before washed over him and he felt it resonate through his bones. “Yes,” he found himself answering. 

_ “Good. How do you feel?”  _

“Great,” Castiel replied easily. 

_ “That’s wonderful to hear. I’m going to give you the second dose now. You’re going to dream, Castiel, does that sound good to you?”  _

“Yes,” he replied. 

_ “What would you like to dream about?”  _

The word fell from his lips without any preamble. “Home.” 

_ “Then listen to me closely. You’re lying in bed, beside your husband, it’s early morning. The birds are chirping outside, the sun is peeking around the corners of the shades, shining down on your husband’s face, making him glow with light. He’s going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to answer them. Can you do that, Castiel? _ ”  __ The woman spoke in a soft whisper, her accent added an extra buffer of sweetness and Castiel let himself succumb to her words. 

“Yes,” he breathed out. 

_ “Wonderful. I’m giving you the second dose now, you’ll feel a small pinch.”  _

True to her words, there was the slightest pinprick in his right arm, and then he was falling deeper into unconsciousness. 

When he woke, he squinted against the sunlight pushing its way into the room. He groaned and rolled over in bed, hoping to put his back to the sun, only to find his husband was awake and staring at him. 

_ “Morning,”  _ Inias said with a soft smile. 

“Good morning,” Castiel replied, returning his husband's smile. 

_ “Cas, do you remember what I told you to do before I left?”  _

Castiel’s brow crinkled in confusion. “But you didn’t leave, you’re right here.” 

Inias reached out to smooth Castiel’s hair away from his eyes. His touch was warm and Castiel leaned into it, shutting his eyes against the feel of his husband’s palm against his cheek. 

_ “I know, but if I did leave, I told you what to do, right?”  _

Castiel’s eyes opened to small slits, still enjoying the contact of having his husband beside him. “Yes, I remember.” 

_ “Can you repeat it to me? Just so I can be sure you understand?”  _

Castiel blinked at Inias, his gut twisted uncomfortably and he felt as if he was being warned that something was off. Suddenly suspicious, Castiel frowned at Inias. “I’m not going to tell anyone, I see no reason to repeat it.” 

_ “Cas baby, it’s okay, it’s just me.”  _ Inias’ face twisted into a smile, one that was not familiar to Castiel. It was clearly supposed to be soothing, but it looked empty. Castiel was sure of something now, this was not Inias.

He knew that he needed to appease whoever this impostor was and so he forced himself to relax, taking fake-Inias’ hand in his under the covers. “I know. But I think I don’t remember it correctly after all. Can you tell me again?” 

Fake-Inias’ expression faded to annoyance.  _ “I know you know, Cas.”  _

“Then that should be enough for you,” he replied as he pulled the covers over his shoulders and settled back down in the bed. 

His heart was hammering in his chest, fluttering like a bird trying to escape a cage. This wasn’t Inias and he had just admitted that he knew something. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why that was such a terrifying thought, but it made him want to disappear into the mattress and never be seen again. 

Suddenly, something soothing washed over him and his fears seemed to slip away. The bed faded from under him and he found himself sitting downstairs on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between him and Inias. 

_ “What are we watching tonight?”  _ Inias asked. 

“Whatever you want,” Castiel replied.

_ “I want you to tell me what you did with it.”  _

“Did with what?” Castiel asked in confusion. 

_ “What I gave you. Where have you put it?”  _

_ The memory stick. He wants to know where the memory stick is.  _ Castiel’s mind helpfully supplied. 

He opened his mouth to answer him when he stopped. That strange feeling of wrongness suddenly came back to him and he wondered where it had gone before. Inias wouldn’t need to ask, Inias would  _ know _ , without asking he’d just…  _ know;  _ and so Castiel decided to conduct a small experiment. 

“You know where it is,” he replied simply, turning his attention back to the Netflix movie selection. 

_ “Do I?”  _ Fake-Inias asked. 

“Yes, you do.” 

_ “Remind me then, I seem to have forgotten.”  _

Castiel chuckled dryly. “You think you’re fooling me? I know you’re not him.” 

_ “What are you talking about? Baby, it’s me.”  _ Fake-Inias reached out for his hand but Castiel jerked away, his movement so sudden that he spilled the popcorn all over the couch and rug. 

“No, you’re  _ not him _ !” 

_ “Castiel, calm down. It’s me, it’s Inias!”  _ Again, fake-Inias tried to reach out for him, but Castiel stood up, passing out of his grasp. 

“You can’t be him,” he whispered. __

_ “What do you mean?”  _

The answer sat in the back of his mind, under all the drowsy happiness from suddenly waking up beside his husband again, the truth was lurking under the surface. 

“Inias is dead,” he replied stiffly. “You’re not him.” 

_ “Cas, please _ ,” fake-Inias pleaded as he stood up. 

Castiel shook his head and stepped away from him. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands over his ears, sinking to his knees as he tried to block out fake-Inias’ insistent words that he was his husband. 

“You’re not him. You’re not him. You’re not him. You’re not him,” he repeated over and over as he rocked back and forth. 

Fake-Inias tried to pull his hands away from his ears but Castiel resisted, repeating his mantra louder and louder until he was practically screaming. That seemed to be enough to convince fake-Inias that he wasn’t going to say anything, because Castiel woke with a gasp. 

His eyes snapped open and he was back in his cell, blank walls surrounding him, and Toni Bevell sitting at a distance in her little chair, a look of pure annoyance on her face. 

Uriel and Bartholomew were standing beside her, clearly ready to assist if Castiel tried anything, but his brain was still too foggy to properly think. However, he was awake enough for the sound of the cell door opening to draw his attention. 

Naomi stepped through, her mouth was turned down in a deep frown as she looked him over. “You’re a lot stronger than we gave you credit for, Castiel. But after all this time we’ve finally managed to get something out of you, haven’t we?”

Castiel tried to think back to what he now knew was a dream. He couldn’t remember what he said, the pieces were just as hazy as everything else. Naomi took pity on him. 

“You  _ do  _ know something. Mrs. Bevell was able to get that out of you. Unfortunately, you still refuse to tell us what it is that you’re hiding.” 

_ Shit.  _

He’d fucked up. He’d failed. He’d broken his promise to Inias.

Somehow, he hadn’t told them what they  _ needed  _ to know, but just insinuating that he knew something had secured his fate; they were never going to stop prodding at him until he slipped up again. 

“No one has ever resisted this procedure, Mr. Novak,” Toni said as she stood up and shut the empty briefcase. “It is quite remarkable, if not incredibly frustrating.” 

Castiel only stared at her. He hadn’t resisted the procedure. He’d resisted  _ part  _ of the procedure, but he’d still told them something they’d been actively trying to confirm for three months. 

Toni picked up the briefcase and turned to Naomi. “It will take some time, but my organization can create a stronger drug, one that should be able to penetrate Mr. Novak’s resistant state while he dreams.” 

“Get to work on it, then,” Naomi replied. 

“Yes ma’am.”

“You’re dismissed, Mrs. Bevell.” 

As soon as Toni left, Naomi took her chair and faced Castiel. “I’m growing very frustrated with you, Castiel.” 

“I’d expect so. The feeling is mutual,” Castiel retorted.

Naomi sighed and folded her hands in front of her. “We’re just trying to protect this country, and your husband may have gotten his hands on something that could ruin everything that President Roman has been working towards.” 

“I don’t believe Inias was a traitor,” Castiel said calmly. “He worked to keep people safe. He was a bodyguard, a  _ protector _ . I knew him, better than anyone, he wouldn’t betray his country.” 

“We don’t want to believe it either, Castiel,” Naomi said, her voice was tinged with sympathy, but Castiel knew it was all an act. “But that is what happened.” 

“How do you know? I think it’s my turn to ask some questions and demand some answers. You’ve kept me locked up here for  _ months _ , and I still don’t know  _ why _ .”

Naomi sighed and exchanged a glance with Uriel and Bartholomew. “I suppose there is no harm in telling you, in fact it may persuade you to tell us what we want to know.” 

“Unlikely,” Castiel growled. “But please, do continue.” 

“Your husband was overseas accompanying one of President Roman’s most trusted advisors. They were checking up an important development of Roman’s latest cause to help humanity become the best version of itself. It was there that Inias went rouge. He abandoned his charge and stole important information from the laboratories database. He sent that information to someone through his cell phone. Inias was careful to encrypt the data trail to be untraceable, even by our best and brightest minds. He had inside information of how we operated and he used that to his advantage. We just want to recover that data, Mr. Novak. If it falls into the wrong hands there’s no telling what could happen.” 

Castiel pondered this information for a moment. If what they said was true, then Inias had gone on this mission with the sole purpose of gathering that data. Through the eyes of the government, it certainly looked like Inias was a traitor, but through Castiel’s eyes, all he saw was corruption. Naomi was hiding something. 

There was always a hidden agenda when it came to things like this. The government loved to hide things, Castiel himself was a perfect example of that. He was sure that everything surrounding his disappearance had been covered up, he was a forgotten face now, hiding in the government’s shadow. Only those that truly knew him would remember who he was and mourn his loss.

But Castiel could tell that Naomi was only speaking in half truths, he was not getting the whole picture. She was scared. After all these months Castiel hadn’t been able to understand why Naomi seemed so desperate, but now he could see it, she was terrified of failing. There was someone higher up than Naomi herself and Castiel was only left to assume that it was President Roman himself.

Inias had died for that data, and Castiel wasn’t about to just hand it straight back to the people he’d stolen it from. He’d taken it for a reason and it could only be a good one. Inias wasn’t a traitor. 

He lifted his head to face Naomi’s hopeful gaze. “I’m not telling you where it is. Inias wasn’t a traitor and he died for that data, he took it for a reason and you’re not getting your hands on it.” 

Naomi’s features hardened and she stood up, a snarl in her voice. “You’re going to regret this, Castiel.”

“You’ve done everything to try to get me to talk, if I regretted it, I would have cracked by now,” Castiel rebuked. 

“You can’t keep it to yourself forever, when Mrs. Bevell returns you won’t be able to resist anymore,” Naomi hissed at him. 

“Just keep telling yourself that,” Castiel retorted. 

Naomi snapped her fingers at Uriel and Bartholomew and they followed Naomi from the cell, carrying the table and chair with them. 

Castiel listened to the room echo with the memory of the cell door closing, and then he laid back down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, letting his mind fill up with thoughts. 

There was still so much that he didn’t know, but Naomi had filled in a few blanks. He knew Inias had stolen important information, but he hadn’t known who from, and now he did; President Roman. This changed things. 

If the President had something to hide that he didn’t want getting out into the world, then Castiel was in even more danger than he’d originally thought. The President would stop at nothing to ensure that whatever secrets he had, were kept. 

Castiel had never liked Richard Roman, or Dick as he preferred to be called. He found that name fitting, because there had always been something about the man that threw Castiel off. He looked like a shark out of water, with cold dead eyes and a smile that looked anything but friendly, filled with razor sharp teeth. 

Needless to say, Castiel hadn’t voted for him. He’d seen past the lies that Roman had spewed, promising a better economy with an improved healthcare system. He and Inias had agreed that the man was nothing but a liar, everything he said was promised without a plan of action, it was all to make him look better. If the President was behind this, then Castiel didn’t stand a chance. They  _ would  _ break him, it was only a matter of time.

****

Castiel woke the next morning to Samandriel entering his cell with a tray of watery eggs and stale toast. 

“Good morning,” the boy greeted him.

“Hello, Samandriel,” Castiel replied. 

Samandriel looked at him in surprise. “You remembered my name.” 

“Of course I did.” 

Samandriel handed him the tray of food and then lowered his eyes. “I didn’t expect you to.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“I mean, I am working for the people who have kept you locked up all this time,” Samandriel replied sheepishly.

“Maybe so, but I see no reason to blame you for doing your job.”

Samandriel offered him the smallest of smiles at that. “Thank you.” He gestured towards the tray that Castiel was holding in his hands. “You should really eat that, you know.” 

Castiel’s stomach growled, agreeing with Samandriel, but he shook his head. “I’m not hungry,” he lied.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” 

“I don’t  _ want  _ to eat,” Castiel amended.

“At least eat the fruit.” 

Castiel stared down at the small fruit cup that sat in the corner of the tray. He could see strawberries, blueberries, cantaloupe, and pineapple. It did look more appealing than the eggs and toast and so he reluctantly picked up the fork and popped a blueberry in his mouth. 

Samandriel smiled at him. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” 

“Yeah, I suppose not.” 

“Those berries look pretty juicy, there’s some napkins under the plate of eggs if you need them,” Samandriel commented offhandedly as he moved back towards the door. 

Castiel stared down at the plate of eggs and then took one more bite of fruit before he carefully lifted the plate. There, printed on the first napkin in careful handwriting were two sentences that made Castiel’s stomach tumble. 

**_I’m going to help you escape. Details to come later - S_ **

Castiel stared at the words until they blurred in front of him. It took a moment to shake himself from the shock, but when he did he instantly went back to eating, as if nothing had happened, so as not to alert anyone of the message. There was no way Samandriel could possibly help Castiel escape, but for the first time in three months, there was something stirring inside him, something that Castiel hardly dared to put a name to. 

Hope.


	9. Waterfalls and Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here's the next chapter! I just wanted to say that school has started for me again, so this fic will be taking the backseat to all my school work. I will be trying to update weekly, but updates may fluctuate due to my course work. Once the first two weeks of school pass, I should have an accurate idea of how much work each class will require of me, so I'll be able to tell you guys with certainty how frequently I can get out updates. But, for now I will try my best to continue weekly on Sunday's. If I can't get out a chapter, I will let y'all know by making a post on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fandomstuff67), so go follow me there if you want the latest on everything related to this fic.  
> .  
> Enjoy the chapter, and I hope to see y'all next week! :)

“Are you hungry?” Dean asked as he held up a pot of chicken noodle soup. 

Cas shrugged. “I could eat.” 

Dean poured two bowls of soup and handed one to Cas before sitting across from him at the table. “Sorry that soup’s all I’ve got. Especially on such a hot day.” 

“It is rather warm out,” Cas agreed. “But I’ll take hot soup over nothing.” 

“I’d almost rather eat it cold,” Dean said with a small laugh as he raised the spoon to his lips, and blew across the steam that spiraled upwards from it. 

“Give it a few minutes and you could,” Cas replied. 

Dean shook his head. “I’m too hungry to wait.” He ate a few spoonfuls of soup before he looked up at Cas. “I need to go into town today. I was thinking that maybe you might want to come.” 

Cas smiled at him. “I’d love to.” 

“It’s a long walk,” Dean warned him. “You’re sure you want to go?” 

“If I want to regain my strength, I need to start pushing myself farther than the river,” Cas said. 

“You have a point.” 

“When do we leave?” 

Dean scraped at the last of his soup and then leaned back in his chair. “Well, I was actually thinking of going swimming first, this heat is getting to be too much for me.”

“Swimming sounds delightful.” 

“There’s an amazing waterfall nearby, if you listen closely you can hear it.”

Castiel paused in his eating and tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed in concentration. After a moment, he smiled. “Yes, I can hear it.” 

“Well, I think it’s about time you _saw_ it. It’s pretty impressive.” 

Castiel stood up abruptly and Dean blinked in surprise, he still wasn’t used to Castiel being able to move around so freely. “Then let’s go.” 

“Slow your roll there pal, we need to change first.”

Castiel frowned. “But I have nothing to change into.” 

“I’ve got an extra bathing suit, you can borrow that.”

“You came out here all alone and still swim with a bathing suit on even though we’re in the middle of nowhere?” 

Dean shrugged as he moved towards his bag. “Hey, hikers come by occasionally. I don’t want to traumatize anyone.” 

Castiel’s frown deepened at that. “If you don’t mind me saying, I don’t think anyone could possibly be traumatized by your body. It’s rather magnificent.” 

Dean practically turned scarlet at Castiel’s words, and he was thankful for the heat in the room as it helped hide the blush in the shadows cast by the heat wave. He cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks Cas. Uh, you too, I guess.”

“I’ve embarrassed you, haven’t it,” Cas stated bluntly. 

_Yes_ . Dean agreed. _Who the fuck just_ says _something like that out of the blue?_

Instead of voicing his thoughts, Dean only smiled, suddenly not wanting to make Castiel think that he made him feel uncomfortable as he had feared of doing just days before at the river, and so he busied himself with locating the bathing suits while he replied.

“No, it’s cool. I just… wasn’t expecting that.” Cas was silent, but Dean could feel his eyes boring into his back. When Dean found both bathing suits, he tossed one to Cas. 

“I’ll go wait outside,” Cas said as his fingers tightened around the bathing suit. 

Dean shook his head and stood up to stop Cas from leaving. “No, man, you don’t have to leave.” 

“But I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Cas replied. 

“I’m not uncomfortable, it’s seriously okay.” 

To prove his point, Dean shed his t-shirt and then changed into his bathing suit. Cas stood frozen to the spot, eyes fixed on something past Dean. Dean only chuckled at Cas’ conviction and grabbed two towels from his bag. 

He spread his arms wide and smiled. “See? Not uncomfortable. I’ll be outside.” Dean stood by the firepit while he waited for Cas to join him and when he did, they set off towards the waterfall.

When they reached the waterfall, Cas took in a sharp breath. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered over the roar of pounding water.

“Told ya,” Dean replied with a grin. “The water’s just as cold as the river, but on a day like today it’ll feel amazing.” 

Dean set the towels down over a tree branch and then jumped into the water. The coldness of it was a shock but a welcome one, and when he surfaced he let out a whoop.

“Feels great, Cas, come on in!” 

Cas only hesitated for a second before he leaped into the waiting water, right beside Dean. The splash fell over Dean, blanketing him in water droplets and when Cas resurfaced he pushed a wave of water at him. 

“Hey!” Cas protested. 

“You splashed me, it’s only fair I splash you in return,” Dean defended himself. 

“I didn’t _intend_ to splash you,” Cas replied, a small pout on his face that Dean found absolutely adorable. 

“Loosen up, Cas. I’m just having some fun,” Dean said with a small laugh.

Dean realized what was about to happen a millisecond before it did. One moment, Castiel was looking innocently at him, the next his hand was flashing across the water, sending a large rush of water over him. 

“So am I,” Cas said with a laugh as he began to swim away. 

Dean spluttered for a minute, spitting water from his mouth and wiping at his eyes. “Why you little _shit_!” Dean hissed once he’d recovered. “I’m so gonna get you.” 

Castiel grinned at him from where he’d swam to the other side of the waterfall. “You can certainly try.” 

Dean didn’t waste another second, he launched himself further into the water and swam towards Castiel, who quickly ducked under the icy water and swam away. Dean followed him, gaining speed as Cas moved towards the water that was currently cascading down the rock face. Cas ducked behind the spray and Dean followed him. 

The second Dean’s head poked around the sheet of water, Cas suddenly popped out from underwater and stretched his arms out towards Dean, pulling him sideways and into the waterfall. 

Dean spluttered and coughed while Cas laughed and quickly swam away again. “Son of a bitch!” Dean shouted through his coughs while he fought to keep himself upright. 

Dean could hear Cas’ laughter over the waterfall and when he finally moved out from behind the waterfall, he saw that Cas had hauled himself out of the water and was standing on the bank, water dripped off him like candle wax and he forced himself not to stare, instead he glared at him but Cas only smiled back, grin wide and cocky. 

“If I were you, I’d start running,” Dean said in a low growl as he moved towards the riverbank. 

Cas stayed where he was and let Dean drag himself up from the water. Only when Dean was starting to stand up, did Cas dart off towards the woods with Dean hot on his heels. Dean was faster than Cas and he quickly caught up to him, his fingers wrapping around Cas’ wrist. One tug, brought Cas falling towards him and Dean quickly shifted to pick him up. 

Cas let out a small squeak of surprise when Dean threw him over his shoulder and carried him the short distance to the water. He didn’t hesitate to drop Cas into the waiting pool and then jump in right after him, splashing him with water as soon as he surfaced. 

“Okay, okay,” Cas said as he backed away from Dean, who had raised his hand to splash Cas again. “You got me.”

“Damn straight I got you,” Dean replied with a smirk. 

Cas shook his head at him, sending water droplets scattering across the surface of the crystal pool. When he blinked up at Dean, his eyelashes dripped with water and Dean watched a single droplet slip down his cheek.

“This place is very beautiful,” Cas said after a moment as his eyes drifted around them. 

Dean nodded, his eyes never leaving Cas. “Yeah, it is.” 

It was at that moment that Dean realized that he wasn’t just talking about the little pool, he was talking about Cas. But if Cas picked up on the double meaning of the sentence, he didn’t seem to notice, he was busy watching the waterfall. 

“Do you know how the owner of the cabin found this spot?” 

Dean shook his head. “No clue. It was probably just a happy accident.”

“And how did you find out about the cabin?” 

“I knew a guy, who knew a guy,” Dean replied easily. 

“That’s always how it is, isn’t it?” Cas chuckled. 

“Yeah, my Dad’s buddy Daniel owns the place. He doesn’t come out here much, so he was happy to rent it to me for cheap, seeing as the cabin is barely standing on its own anyway.” 

“Well, that was very kind of him.” 

“Yeah, I’m short on cash as it is. I’m only paying one hundred bucks a month to be here.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “That really is cheap. Especially when you have access to such a luxurious place as this.” 

Dean smiled. “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet.” 

“Like paradise,” Cas said softly.

God, everything in Dean wanted to just surge forward and kiss the water from Cas’ lips. He wanted to press him up against the river bank and run his fingers through his damp hair. 

He took a breath to control the sudden urge that had washed over him and returned Cas’ smile. “Like paradise,” he echoed.

They swam for a little while longer, but once their teeth started to chatter they climbed out of the water and dried off before they walked back towards the cabin. It didn’t take them long to get dressed and while Cas continued to mop at his hair with a towel, Dean began pulling clothes out of his big hiking bag.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked. 

“Well, we’re going shopping, aren’t we?” Dean replied. “I usually just use my backpack for groceries and stuff, but I figured there’s two of us, so I’ll need double of everything, hence the bigger bag.” 

“I see.” 

Once his bag was emptied, he moved over to the pile of recycling and trash that he’d accumulated since the last time he went to town and began to stuff cans into the bag. When he was done, he stood and smiled. “So, are we off then?” 

“I suppose so,” Cas replied with a smile of his own. 

The walk seemed longer than usual. Dean was used to it by now, but Cas was still recovering and sometimes they had to stop because Cas’ breath was starting to grow so ragged Dean was worried he might collapse from exhaustion. 

“This is too much, isn’t it?” Dean said at about the two mile marker. “Do you want to turn around?”

Cas shook his head and waved Dean off. “No, I’m okay, I just need a moment.”

Dean eyed Cas skeptically, he was leaning against a tree and his chest was rising and falling so fast Dean considered the thought that Cas might be hyperventilating. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” Cas grit out. 

“It’s really okay if you need to go back, we’re not even halfway there yet.” 

Cas straightened and took in a gulp of air before he took a step forward. “No, I’m good.” 

Dean noticed that his hand had come up to clutch at his chest where the claw marks were scarring underneath his shirt. “Seriously, dude, take it easy for a minute, we’re not in any rush.” 

“It’s okay, I’m good,” Cas said. 

Dean put a hand on Cas’ shoulder to stop him from going any further. “Dude, chill for a second. I don’t want you pushing yourself too much. We still have to shop and then walk all the way back to the cabin.” 

Cas looked like he was about to argue again, but Dean leveled him with a glare and his jaw snapped shut. “Maybe another few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt.” 

“I thought so.” Dean patted his back and Cas sank down onto the ground with his back against the tree. Dean joined him and they sat there in silence, listening to the birds and the creak of branches swaying in the humid wind.

“Dean,” Cas said quietly, so quiet in fact that Dean almost didn’t hear him. 

“Yeah?” 

“How long have you been out here?” 

“About a month and a half or so, I think. Maybe longer, I’ve kind of lost track of time.” 

“Do you miss your family?” 

Dean blinked at Cas in surprise for a moment before he nodded slowly. “Yeah, but really just my brother.”

“How much of an age difference is there between you two?” 

“Four years. He’s still in school, trying to be a lawyer.” Dean chuckled fondly, “the little nerd.”

“My brother and I are six years apart.” 

“Damn,” Dean muttered. “Do you miss him?”

“I haven’t seen him in so long, I kind of forgot what missing him felt like,” Cas paused and wet his lips with his tongue, Dean had to fight to track the movement with his eyes. “But, after everything that’s happened to me, I find that I’m catching up on missing him for all those years that I haven’t seen him.” 

Dean made a small noise in the back of his throat, it sounded vaguely like a hum. “Not a day’s gone by that I haven’t missed Sammy.” 

“Gabriel and I just grew apart, despite everything that happened during our childhood. Once we became adults and truly stepped into our differences, we just split ways. He came to my wedding, but that was the last time I saw him.” Cas’ throat clicked as he swallowed and his eyes seemed to flash with a sudden realization. “I hadn’t even thought… he must be worried sick about me. I’m sure he heard about my disappearance.” 

“You should really contact him.”

“You think?” Cas asked, suddenly sounding timid. 

Dean scoffed a little. “Uh, hell yeah. Look, speaking as an older brother, I’d be out of my mind by now if I hadn’t heard from Sammy in months. When we get to town you can call him, how’s that sound?” 

Cas nodded, slightly dumbfounded. “Okay. Yeah.”

“Are you ready to continue then?” 

“I think so.” 

Dean stood and helped Cas to his feet. “Just let me know if you need to stop again, okay?” 

“Of course.”

They only stopped one more time before they reached the place Dean had hidden his car. When he pulled away the branches and various leafy twigs from his pride and joy, exposing her beautiful black body to the sharp rays of hot sunshine, Castiel let out a soft gasp. 

“This is yours?” 

Dean grinned, eyes brightening at Castiel’s awe. “Yup, she’s my Baby.” 

“She’s beautiful,” Castiel breathed. His hand hovered over Baby’s hood and he looked carefully up at Dean. “May I?” 

Dean couldn’t help but widen his smile at Cas’ question. “Touch her? Sure, Cas.” 

Cas laid a gentle hand on the warm metal of Baby’s hood and his eyes widened in wonder as his hand dragged across the paint while he walked. “She’s exquisite.” 

Dean hummed softly. “Yeah, I think so too.”

“However did you come by her?” 

“She was my Dad’s. He got her before I was born, I basically grew up in her. She’s the one constant in my life, well, apart from Sammy.” 

“Inias wanted a car like this,” Cas said thoughtfully. “He loved old cars.” 

Dean nodded. “Baby’s served me well, ain’t nothin’ like old cars. I think they’re better than cars today, in a lot of respects at least.” 

“I think I may have to agree with you there.” 

“Well, shall we get going?” 

Cas tore his eyes away from the car and nodded. “Yes, please.” 

Dean pulled open the driver’s side door just as Cas opened the passengers. The doors creaked in twin unison and Dean smiled at the sound as he slid into his seat. Cas marveled at the interior of the car and Dean couldn’t help the warm surge that brushed across his body at the thought that Cas liked his car. _Really_ liked his car. 

When he turned the key in the ignition, Cas actually let out a startled squeak at the harsh rumble of the engine waking up. “Louder than you thought it’d be, isn’t it?” Dean asked as he shifted into reverse. 

“Yes,” Cas replied. 

Dean pulled out onto the main road and then set Baby flying forwards. She opened up under Dean’s fingers and he cranked up the radio, AC/DC blared through the speakers and Cas began to nod his head along to the beat while Dean guided Baby towards town. Dean was fairly certain he had never felt more alive than right now, driving his car with a gorgeous guy sitting beside him, not a care in the world. From swimming in the waterfall, to driving his Baby again after a few weeks, Dean couldn’t imagine a better day. 

The first sign for the town arrived far too quickly and Dean had to tamp down the sinking revelation that he would have to park Baby and actually leave this amazing haven. He parked outside the drug store and then waited for Cas to walk around the car to him. 

“So, I usually go in here for canned goods and stuff, as well as medical supplies. Do you need more painkillers or anything?” 

“Some more Tylenol wouldn’t hurt, I suppose,” Cas replied. 

Dean turned towards the store door and tugged it open before walking through. Andy looked up from the cash register and offered Dean a smile. “Hey man! Good to see you again.” 

“You too, Andy,” Dean grinned. 

“Who’s your friend?” Andy asked, indicating Cas who was staring around the store with wide eyes, as if he’d never seen a drug store before. 

“Uh, this is Cas. He’s a friend who came out to surprise me with a visit,” Dean lied easily. 

Cas stared at him in surprise for a moment before he smiled. “Yes, Dean and I go way back.” 

“Yeah, to the third grade, I think it was,” Dean said with a soft chuckle. 

“Yes, I believe you’re correct,” Cas agreed, going along with Dean’s lie. 

“Do you have the usual stuff?” Dean asked, quickly changing the topic before he backed himself into an even farther false story. 

Andy nodded, none the wiser, and gestured vaguely at the shelves. “Yeah, we’re just low on paper towels, but other than that, everything’s fair game.” 

“Great, thanks,” Dean replied as he snatched a basket from beside the door and ushered Cas down an aisle. “Pick out whatever you want,” he said as he grabbed a box of granola bars and tossed them into the basket. 

Cas placed a bottle of Tylenol into the basket and then wandered farther down the aisle while Dean tried to decide what kind of soup to get. He settled on two cans of tomato, six cans of chicken noodle, and three cans of some organic black bean soup that Dean didn’t particularly like, but he knew he needed to have _something_ kind of healthy. He also tossed a six pack of canned tuna into the mix as well.

Dean caught up to Cas at the end of the aisle where he was staring at a rack of track phones. “You should get one,” Dean said. 

Cas shook his head. “No, I can just call Gabriel with yours.” 

Dean picked up a phone anyway and placed it in the basket. “I’m sure Gabriel isn’t the only one you need to call. You should have your own number.” 

“I don’t want you to spend more money than you need to. You’ve done so much for me already.” 

“It’s no trouble,” Dean replied as he pulled a card with sixty minutes on it off the shelf. “We’ll get you all set up and then you can make any calls you need to make and I’ll finish up with everything else we came here to do.” 

Reluctantly, Cas nodded. “Okay.” 

Dean grinned triumphantly and then snagged two water bottles from the fridge at the end of the aisle before he headed over to the counter where Andy was boredly flipping through a magazine. “I think we’re all set here,” Dean said, jolting Andy from his magazine. 

Andy began to scan the items in the basket all the while glancing up at Cas every now and then. “So, how long are you staying with Dean, here?” 

Cas blinked at Andy for a moment, stunned to be addressed so casually. “Oh, um, I don’t know.” 

“Until whenever,” Dean replied, cutting in. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to.” 

Cas nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Sounds dope,” Andy said with a small smile as he scanned the last item and then began to set up the track phone. He put the minutes on the phone, turned it on, and then made sure there was a registered number attached. Once he was satisfied he put the phone in a bag and looked up at Dean. “That’ll be 50.75.” 

Dean handed over his credit card and Andy swiped it and then handed it back. “See you around,” Dean said with a small salute as he took their bags and headed towards the door. 

“Bye!” Andy called after them.

Dean led Cas back to the car and then began to fish through the bags to find the track phone and he handed it over to Cas. “Alright, call whoever you have to, I’m gonna take care of all this recycling I brought with us.” 

“Thank you,” Cas replied. 

Dean waited a moment to make sure the phone was working properly before he pushed his way out of the car to the sound of Baby’s hinges squealing in protest. The large recycling dumpster that Dean always used wasn’t very far, but he took his time on the walk, allowing Cas to have as much time as he needed to talk with his brother. 

Dean took in the town while he walked, watching a few of its inhabitants enter clothing stores, or ice cream parlors. There was a mother pushing her baby in a stroller while her husband clung to the hand of their small son. Dean couldn’t help but smile at the hustle and bustle of small town life, at how simple and easy going life seemed to be. 

He tore his eyes away from the little family when he reached the dumpster and he carefully began to throw all the cans into its depths. He tossed granola bar wrappers in the trash and then shook out the hiking bag to make sure he didn’t miss anything. When nothing clattered to the ground, he shouldered the bag and headed back towards the car.

He could see Cas through the windshield, he was holding the phone to his ear but he wasn’t speaking and a moment later he lowered the phone and then raised it again. Dean stepped into the car and Cas turned to look at him. 

“He’s not answering,” Cas said, lowering the phone again. “I’ve tried five times and he won’t pick up.” 

“Did you leave a message?” 

Cas shook his head. “His inbox is full.”

“Well, we don’t have to leave just yet, keep trying.” 

Cas sighed but pressed the call button again. 

Dean could hear it ringing from where he sat and then all of a sudden a voice came through the speaker. “Who are you, and what do you want?” the voice snapped. 

Cas jerked the phone away from his ear in surprise, but then pressed it back and swallowed. “Gabe?” 

There was a pause on the other end and then Gabriel said, “Yeah? Who is this?” 

“It’s me, it’s Castiel.” 

“ _Cassie_?” Gabriel’s disbelief carried so far through the phone that Dean could practically feel the confusion and surprise of an older brother rippling through the car. “No, you can’t be Cassie, he’s dead.” 

Cas shook his head vigorously. “I’m not, it’s true, it’s me.”

“Tell me something only Castiel would know, then,” Gabriel demanded. 

Cas’ eyes tilted up in thought for a second and then he smiled, a wicked smile, the smile that a younger sibling keeps reserved for their older sibling, the one that screams mischief, and blackmail. “When you were in eighth grade, you tried to ask out Hope Richards at the park, and she slapped you so hard that you ended up knocking out two of your teeth when you fell face first onto the pavement. You had a lisp for a week until we finally got you a dentist appointment.” 

Gabriel grunted on the other end of the phone and there was a pause before Gabriel’s whisper flitted up from the phone’s speaker. “Cas? It’s really you?”

“Yes,” Cas croaked out, Dean realized that there were a few unshed tears watering his eyes.

“But… how are you-- _where_ are you-- _what the fuck happened?!_ ” 

“It’s a long story, and I really don’t have enough time to tell you about it right now. I just… I wanted to call you and let you know I’m okay, I’m alive.” 

Gabriel breathed out a choked sob, and Dean suddenly felt like he should leave the car, that he was intruding on an important, intimate, conversation and he shouldn’t be there. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Gabriel asked, so quietly Dean almost didn’t hear. 

Cas glanced over at Dean and gave him a small smile. Dean smiled back.

“Yeah, I am.” 

“Cas, what’s going on? The news said you were missing and then an official police statement said you were dead and Inias won’t answer the phone either, what’s going on?” 

Dean watched Cas’ throat ripple when he swallowed and he decided that he needed to let Cas talk to his brother alone. As he was stepping through the door, he heard Cas mumble, “I can’t talk about what happened, it’s not safe. But… Inias is dead, Gabe.” 

Dean shut the door on the rest of their conversation and leaned against the hood while he waited for Cas to finish his call. 

It was at least another ten minutes before Cas knocked on the windshield and Dean turned around to see that Cas was done. He climbed back into the car just in time to see Cas wipe a remaining tear from his cheek. 

“You okay?” Dean asked quietly. 

Cas nodded. “Yeah.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“Not to worry, and that I’d try to get home soon,” Cas replied simply. “That’s all I really _could_ tell him.” 

“You’ll get to see him again, Cas,” Dean said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

Cas gave Dean a weak smile, cheeks still stained with tears. “I hope so.” 

Without another word, Dean started the Impala and sent them back towards the wooded path. Cas was silent the whole way, staring at the phone in his hands and occasionally flipping it open and shut. 

Soon, they were back at the small dirt road and Dean was pulling into the Impala-shaped parking spot he’d created. He quickly moved all the things they’d bought into the hiking bag and then began to cover the Impala back up with branches. Cas helped him and they made quick work of it. 

“You good to start walking?” 

“Yes, I think so,” Cas replied.

“Let me know-” 

“-if I need to stop,” Cas finished for him. “I will.” Cas headed off towards the path without another word and Dean followed him, letting Cas take the lead. 

They only stopped once, but Cas ended up draining one of the water bottles Dean bought and his hand seemed to be glued to his side, where the healing bullet wound was, as every so often a wince would slide across his features.

When the cabin came into view, Cas stumbled towards it only to halt the second he came to the door. Dean looked past him to see that the door was open and there was a man standing in the middle of the room. 

“Castiel!” the man exclaimed in excitement when he saw that they’d come back. “We’ve been looking _everywhere_ for you. Thank _God_ you’re alright!”

Dean’s stomach churned as he took in the man’s stance, his uniform, and the way he was eyeing Castiel like he wanted to tear his head off. This was exactly what Cas had been afraid of, being found, and judging by the way Cas was staring dumbfounded at the man, fear and shock warring for dominance on his face, that was exactly what happened. 

Dean carefully put a hand on Cas’ shoulder and pushed him aside. “Um, I’m sorry, who the _fuck_ are you and what you doing here?” 

The man’s gaze shifted towards Dean and in a split second, there was a gun being pointed at him. “This isn’t about you.” 

He eyed the gun as he became hyper-aware of his own gun pressing against his lower back; if only he could reach it. His heart slammed against his ribcage in a terrified drumbeat. But he just swallowed and fixed the man with a harsh glare.

“The _hell_ it isn’t!” he hissed.

“Dean,” Cas warned, suddenly finding his voice. “Don’t.” 

The man grinned at him, gun still aimed at Dean. “You should listen to him.”

“Ion, please,” Cas pleaded as he stepped forward, arms raised in surrender. “Just take me back, leave him alone.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” Ion replied. 

“ _Please_ ,” Cas begged, his voice breaking as he glanced from Dean to Ion. 

Dean’s fingers itched to wrap around his gun and draw it, but Ion looked like he was the kind of guy who was quick on the trigger, and he already had the upper hand, so Dean decided not to risk it. “Look pal,” Dean began, daring to take a small step forward. “We don’t want any trouble, so why don’t you just-” 

Dean didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because suddenly a loud crack split through the air and pain was vibrating through Dean’s body. He fell to the ground with a surprised gasp, ears ringing with the sound of Cas’ pleading screams.


	10. Salvation is the Color Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this week I decided to give you TWO chapters. Yes. T W O. This chapter is shorter than usual and the next chapter is even SHORTER so I decided to do them at the same time, so you're basically getting the usual amount of content. Things are starting to come together and questions will be answered in these chapters.  
> I hope you enjoy! :)

Electricity rippled up Castiel’s body in sharp waves of pain. His body stuttered under each new shock, causing his eyes to roll up into his head. His heart hitched in his chest, working furiously to keep beating through every strike of Malachi’s baton of electricity. 

Another month had passed, and Castiel still refused to say anything else regarding the data Inias had sent him. Toni Bevell’s people hadn’t come up with a new formula yet, although Naomi assured Castiel that they were close, and that he could save them the effort of finishing it if he would just tell them what they needed to know. 

Castiel had kept his mouth firmly shut and Naomi had ordered that Malachi continue to use the previous form of interrogation, in hopes that Castiel would finally break. So, every couple of days, Castiel was dragged off to the torture chamber and asked the same five questions. 

Malachi had grown rather creative with his torture methods in the past few months. Sometimes he’d string Castiel upside down until he passed out while he carved into him with a knife, or depending on his mood he might just stick to the blade, or, his new favorite, torture by electrocution. Castiel knew the voltage was never going to be high enough to kill him, but that didn’t make the sensation any less painful; electrocution was highly unpleasant. 

As Castiel came to again, he blinked slowly down at Malachi as the electric cloud over his mind cleared. “Where is it!” Malachi demanded. 

“Screw you,” Castiel spat weakly. 

Malachi went to strike him again, but Uriel’s voice boomed out from the shadows of the room. “He’s had enough for today, Malachi. You’ll kill him if you electrocute him again.” Malachi glared at Uriel in annoyance, but lowered his baton.

Castiel’s eyes slid shut as he huffed out a sigh of relief that they were done with him for the day. He didn’t have any strength left in his body and when Malachi reached up to undo the chains holding him up, he collapsed in a heap on the ground, unable to move. 

Uriel’s hands joined Malachi’s and soon Castiel was once again blindfolded and dragged unceremoniously back to his cell. Per usual, they left him on the floor and Castiel was left to pick himself back up. 

It took him longer than usual to find his feet. His body was still shaking from the electric shocks and his mind was trying to put itself back together from his latest interrogation session. He wasn’t sure why they continued to torture him, when Toni Bevell was working so vigorously to add to the dream serum, as Castiel had elected to call it. He wasn’t going to talk, they had to know that by now, and yet they kept poking and prodding, hoping that he might crack. 

Castiel was resolute, he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of breaking him. The slip up in his dream was the only piece of the puzzle that he was going to allow them to have. Too much was riding on Castiel’s silence, Samandriel had told him as much. 

Over the past month he’d been communicating with him via napkins under his meals. He didn’t have much information, but Samandriel had told him that Inias’ mission had been to take one of President Roman’s most trusted associates to Korea to oversee the manufacturing of some new kind of drug called LVTHN. The data that was so important to Naomi, was data that showed the innermost workings of LVTHN, who is involved with it, who had access to it, who was making it, etc. Samandriel hadn’t been able to disclose what LVTHN was or what it did, but judging by the secrecy and the fact that Inias died in order to send out every piece of data concerning the drug, it couldn’t be anything good. Now Castiel knew that the safety of everyone in the country was in danger and that the only thing that could save them, was the memory stick currently buried in the rotten hole of a tree. 

When he finally managed to drag himself to his feet, every part of his body screamed at him in protest. His muscles still sang with the crackle of electricity and his arms twitched at his sides, still feeling bolts of electricity run through his veins. 

The moment he sat down on the bed, the cell door opened and Samandriel stepped inside, carrying his dinner. 

“How are you?” Samandriel asked as he handed the tray to Castiel, who accepted it with shaking hands.

“I suppose I’ll live,” Castiel replied. 

Samandriel nodded solemnly at him. “I’m sure this will all end soon.” 

With that, he left, and Castiel began to pick at his dinner. He stared at the plate of turkey, steam trickled up from the meat but Castiel knew from experience that the heat didn’t go all the way through the turkey. A pile of mushy corn lay huddled to one side of the tray and a singular apple sat alone beside it. A glass of metallic water was placed in the corner of the tray and Castiel reached for it carefully, still feeling tremors ripple through his body. 

A few sips of water made him feel better and he plucked the apple up from the tray and set the rest of the food aside, laying back on his bed and raising the apple to his mouth while his eyes clouded over, staring at the ceiling. 

He ate away at the mealy apple and once the core was all that remained, he tossed it on the tray and picked up the plate of turkey, carefully removing the napkin that had Samandriel’s familiar handwriting scrawled across it. 

**A few more weeks and I should have a way out of here for you. Just working a few more things and getting some people on our side, then you’ll be home free -S**

Castiel smiled at the note and then wiped his mouth with the napkins and wrapped his apple core in it. If what Samandriel said was true, then all Castiel had to do was hold out for just a little while longer. 

When Samandriel came to collect Castiel’s still mostly full tray, they exchanged small smiles and nods and then Castiel was alone again, and his exhausted and battered body dragged him to sleep. 

***Three Weeks Later***

Castiel wasn’t sure what woke him. He was in a relatively sound proof cell, outside noises hardly ever penetrated the thick cement walls. Fear rippled through Castiel as he sat on the edge of his bed, ears straining to listen for the noise that pulled him from sleep. 

Sure enough, he heard it again. 

Gun shots. 

A few more shots sounded and then Castiel’s cell door was creaking open and Samandriel was pushing his way inside before the door was even fully open. 

“Come on!” he said as he gestured wildly for Castiel to follow him. 

Castiel didn’t wait to be told twice, he jumped down from his bed and followed Samandriel as he led him down dark corridor after dark corridor. Gunfire sounded from behind them and Castiel risked a glance over his shoulder to see that a woman had shot down one of Naomi’s guards. 

“Don’t look back!” Samandriel shouted as his hand closed over Castiel’s wrist and pulled him farther away from the woman and the dead body she was standing over. 

“When did this become the plan?” Castiel asked through breaths of air as he allowed himself to be dragged down the maze that was this building. 

“Sorry I couldn’t inform you earlier, they were onto us, we had to act now,” Samandriel replied as he took a sharp turn causing Castiel to nearly collide with a wall. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

“The plan changed,” Samandriel huffed as he pushed Castiel through a pair of double doors. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to do a lot of the legwork yourself.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I can’t get you a car, it’s got lojack. You’re going to have to run.” 

Castiel wanted to pull Samandriel to a stop right then and there but the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and the knowledge that they were probably being followed right now, made him rethink that idea. 

“I’ll never make it on foot,” Castiel panted as Samandriel pushed him towards a door that had a big red EXIT sign gleaming above it. 

“You have to try. They’re not going to stop, Castiel. They will _never_ stop, not until they get what they want.” 

Castiel understood what he was saying: run now and possibly escape, or continue to live in this Hell for the rest of his life. 

Castiel chose option A. 

The second Castiel burst through the door, he felt a hot summer breeze hit him in the face. It took everything in him not to stop and breath in the smell of fresh air, but Samandriel’s hand on his shoulder kept him going. 

Castiel didn’t have time to take in his surroundings, his legs just carried him towards the border of trees that seemed to be surrounding the government facility. They ran towards the trees, lungs burning and breaths coming in heaving gasps.

Tree branches snapped around him, roots tangled around his ankles like gnarled hands reaching out to trip him, but through every stumble, he found his feet again. Leaves brushed against his face, almost tickling him at their soft touch and low hanging vines smacked him like a whip, causing blood to bead from the lashes; but still he kept running. 

The crack of gunfire sounded through the air and suddenly Samandriel was toppling to the ground with a surprised gasp. Castiel spared one glance at him and a pang snapped at his heart, there was blood pluming on Samandriel’s shirt around his heart, and Castiel knew there was nothing he could do, so he continued to run, pushing through branches in a dazed frenzy, hoping to escape before he met the same fate. 

He didn’t know how long he ran, but gun shots followed him as he went. Splitting open trees or dusting the ground near his feet in hazy clouds. Fear pumped fluidly through his body and he was sure that it was the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground. 

At some point, the gun shots ceased and Castiel was just running along to the sound of his own panting and twigs snapping under his feet. Just as his lungs felt like they were about to explode, he stumbled into a clearing and his foot slipped in a ditch, causing him to halt. A growl sounded from somewhere to his left and he backpedaled quickly, only to trip and fall again. 

A black bear was staring at him from across the clearing, three cubs huddled close beside her, their den sitting behind her. Castiel only had vague knowledge of what to do when you encounter a bear, but he knew that you weren’t supposed to run. He stayed frozen in place, watching as the bear assessed him. His ragged breathing was picking up in his ears and he tried to force himself to calm down.

And then, there was a gunshot and the bear reared up on her hind paws and then locked her brown gaze on Castiel. 

It happened quickly, the bear charged and Castiel tried to scramble away, but her large paw came down on his chest, tearing at his skin. He screamed, pain flaring through every nerve ending in his body just as another gunshot split through the air. 

The bear roared again as the bullet hit home in her hide and Castiel took the opportunity to try to escape. More gunshots echoed around him and Castiel watched the bear slump to the ground, dead. 

Blood was pumping through his fingers where he tried to stop the flow of sticky red liquid oozing from the deep cuts. He felt something rising in his throat and he turned on his side, coughing as blood came out of his mouth, dotting the leaves under him. 

A bullet hit the ground beside him and he rolled away, barely managing to see anything through the tears in his eyes as his body flooded with shock. He knew he had to move, if he stayed he’d either be shot to death or they’d bring him back to the compound, stitch him up, and then start the torture all over again. 

Another bullet sprung past him and he hoisted himself to his feet. The blood on his hands was already drying and it was crusting underneath the fresh blood that was still steadily coming from the claw marks. Despite the way his vision swayed in front of him, trees dipping and spinning around him, he managed to run. 

His feet carried him through the forest as he blindly stumbled and pushed through the dense underbrush. He didn’t notice the hill until it was too late. As his feet slipped on the mud lining the ground, from what Castiel could only assume was from a recent rainfall, a sharp white hot pain lanced through his abdomen and he fell forward with a cry. 

He tumbled down the hill, rolling like dead weight, every hit of the sharp ground added a new bruise to his battered body. He was too stunned to make any noise, and with each roll he felt mud cake his skin, sticking to him like a mold. 

When he reached the bottom of the hill, it took him a moment to realize that he’d stopped rolling. The world was still spinning and now that he was laying down again, he could feel the hole that had been ripped through him by the bullet. 

He had to get up again, he had to, they were probably right behind him, they’d catch him if he stayed here. But his body didn’t seem to want to move, his arms fell limply by his sides and the sky was beginning to darken in the corners of his vision. As he let his eyes fall shut, he couldn’t help but think that maybe lying here for a little while wouldn’t be such a bad thing...

When Castiel woke up, he was amazed to find that he was alive and still in the same spot that he’d passed out in. He could still feel blood flowing from his body, but somehow he hadn’t bled out yet. A cough racked its way out of his throat and he struggled to sit up. The sun was peeking through the trees now, rising up to light the sky where there had only been darkness before. 

His first thought was that they’d left him for dead. They must have known that the fall didn’t kill him and figured that his wounds would finish the job. But an even more sickening thought struck through him before he could even fully entertain the fist one: they could have let him go. 

He didn’t understand why they would have, maybe they hoped he might lead them back to D.C. where he stashed the memory stick, or maybe they were tired of hitting a wall with every answer he refused to give. Either way, he was free, and he was _alive_. 

As he gasped and struggled to his feet, trying to ignore the flares of pain that danced across his skin, he remembered that not everyone had been as lucky as he was; Samandriel was dead, he gave his life so Castiel could be free. 

“You won’t have died in vain,” Castiel grunted to the sky as he set off into the trees, clutching his wounded chest and side in each hand. He tried to ball up his torn shirt to staunch some of the blood flow, but he knew that without help, he probably wasn’t going to make it. But he also knew that if he did get help, if he found a hospital or something, that they would I.D. him and everything would come crashing down. Whether his escape was by luck or if they let him go, they would find him again. He couldn’t let that happen.

Castiel didn’t know how long he walked, but he could feel the blood loss starting to get to him and his feet were beginning to slip with every step. Rough tree bark scraped against the palms of his hands as he used their trunks to support his weight, and he felt his body starting to give out, just as he spotted something large poking out from between the trees. 

He took a few more steps closer and saw that it was a cabin, and movement inside showed that someone was currently living there. One last spike of adrenaline carried him forward and he stumbled through the trees, fixing his eyes on the cabin and hoping that he wasn’t just hallucinating it. 

When he broke through the trees into the little clearing in front of the cabin, he was greeted with a gun barrel to his face which was quickly lowered as the man standing in the doorway of the cabin took in Castiel’s appearance. He fixed the man with a pleading look and gasped out, “Help.” The second the word left his mouth was the moment when his body finally decided to give out, and he fell to the ground. 

****

Castiel woke up surrounded by unfamiliar sights and smells. Someone was leaning over him and panic suddenly fluttered in his stomach. The man over him suddenly flinched away in surprise. “Holy shit, man,” he said in a deep whiskey smooth voice. 

Castiel suddenly knew that he couldn’t stay here, he couldn’t put this man at risk, they could have followed him here. He tried to sit up, only to feel blood ooze across his skin, causing him to fall back down.

“Woah there buddy, take it easy,” the stranger said as he held his hands out to steady Castiel. 

“I- I have to go,” Castiel gasped out, his voice hoarse.

“You’re not going anywhere like this,” the man said as Castiel tried to sit up again. The stranger’s hands gently came up to his shoulders and he pushed him back down. “Dude, seriously, stay still or you’ll kill yourself before I even have a chance to try to help you. I just need to get this bleeding to stop and then I’ll call someone, okay?”

Fear clutched at Castiel’s chest at those words. Calling someone was the last thing he needed right now, it would mean going back to that compound and most likely the death of this man in front of him. “No, you can’t, you can’t call anyone. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t,” he said vehemently, those two words suddenly became all he could say. “You can’t, you can’t, you can’t,” he repeated over and over again until the edges of his vision began to feather and he slipped back under unconsciousness. 

****

When Castiel woke again, the first thing he felt was the pain; lances of it, stinging in every part of his body. The second thing he noticed was how dry his mouth was, it felt like there were a thousand cotton balls surrounding his teeth, pressing against his cheeks, soaking up every bit of saliva it could find, like a sponge to water. He tried to roll onto his side but it felt like every part of him was weighed down by a ton of bricks and a twinge in his side made him gasp out. 

With shaking hands, he lifted the soft blanket that the stranger must have draped over him at night and peered at the wounds on his chest. The claw marks were stitched up in relatively neat rows and the bullet wound above his hip was a mass of angry red flesh. A sudden realization hit him, this man had cauterized the wound. 

He lowered the blanket and managed to move his head to look at the sleeping figure beside him. Castiel took in the muscular set to his shoulders while he slept and watched the steady rising and falling of his chest as he breathed. His eyes traveled to the man’s hair, which was brown with specks of light yellow suggesting that he could have once been blond. They were close enough that Castiel could see the constellations of freckles that dotted the man’s face and the way his eyelashes splayed out perfectly over his cheeks, fluttering gently when his eyes shifted in his sleep. His lips were pink and plush, relaxed against the breaths of sleep and Castiel couldn’t help but smile at the sight before him.

The man was truly beautiful. 

The second the thought crossed his mind, he instantly chastised himself for it. Inias was still in the forefront of his mind, he wasn’t ready to move on and develop feelings for the first man he met. But as he continued to stare at the stranger, he suddenly began to feel like there was a cage of butterflies in his stomach. He shook himself and told himself that it was only because this man had saved his life, and he was grateful, there were no other feelings attached to those butterflies. 

But when the stranger opened his eyes suddenly, sleep fading from their depths, Castiel almost gasped aloud as suddenly all he could see was green. The man’s eyes were greener than the forest that surrounded them, they were the color of ferns and freshly cut grass, of moss and leaves that had been darkened by weather, speckled with flakes of marigold and dipped in a glassy polish of honey. 

The moment he opened his eyes, was the moment that Castiel knew he wasn’t going to be able to chalk up the butterflies in his stomach to gratefulness. 

As the days wore on and Castiel got to know Dean, he realized that it was becoming harder and harder not to fall for him. He was kind, caring, funny, and never tried to push Castiel too far too soon in his recovery, and on top of all that he was completely and utterly _gorgeous_. 

When he made Castiel a walking stick, he realized that there was probably no way he would be able to keep himself from seeing if Dean wanted to be something more in the future. But Inias lived constantly in the back of his mind, and every time he thought about Dean in a way he used to think about Inias, guilt would vibrate through him so violently that he would almost be sick to his stomach. 

He had to give himself time to heal, not only from the physical wounds that had been inflicted on him over the past months, but the emotional ones as well. Between all the torture, he hadn’t had time to grieve Inias’ death, and now that he wasn’t being pulled from a cell to be questioned on the edge of a blade, everything was starting to come back to him in full force. Inias was _dead_ ; he couldn’t just forget that, no matter how easy Dean made it to forget, he couldn’t tarnish Inias’ memory like that, not so soon anyway. 

With these thoughts spinning his head, Castiel decided that even though it was going to be difficult, he would fight the feelings stirring under his skin, because it was too soon to start thinking of another man as he had thought of Inias; there were far too many more important things to focus on. He already had enough to worry about with trying to get back to the memory stick, and so Castiel forced the memory stick to become his priority. 

Inias and his mission would always come first.


	11. Shoot to Kill

The second he hit the ground, Dean knew it was only a flesh wound, he had felt the bullet pierce just below his shoulder, far above his heart. The bullet had torn its way through his body and exited out the back of his shoulder, but it still hurt like a bitch. He could hear Ion give a short little laugh as Castiel screamed Dean’s name and dropped to the ground beside him. 

“Hey!” Ion shouted, his gun trained on Castiel now. “Don’t move!” 

“Please,” Cas said, voice strained as he glanced from Dean to Ion and back again. Ion shifted his gun back to Dean and Cas tried to move in front of him. “No, please, he has nothing to do with this. Let him go.” 

“Oh Castiel, ever the hero, aren’t you?” Ion mocked, still not moving his gun from Dean. 

Cas ignored him, suddenly turning to Dean. Their eyes locked and Dean swallowed thickly as he stared into those blue eyes. “Are you alright?” Castiel asked. 

Dean propped himself up on one elbow, using the movement to get his hand closer to his own gun that was now trapped between his back and the ground. “I’ll live,” he replied with a grunt. 

“Enough talking!” Ion shouted as he stepped towards them. “I’m taking you both in.” 

Dean’s fingers closed around the hilt of his gun and Castiel’s eyes tracked the movement, forehead wrinkling in confusion for a moment. Dean’s eyes flicked away from Cas’, focusing back on Ion’s, hoping that Cas would understand not to keep staring.

Dean knew that he wasn’t going to be able to take the shot. He couldn’t move fluently enough to pull the gun out and then shoot without being shot first, and so when he managed to work the gun free of his belt he inconspicuously bumped his hand against Cas’ knee. Cas looked down at just the right moment and acted so quickly that Dean could have sworn he’d missed the movement when he blinked. 

One minute, the gun was in Dean’s hand, the next there was a loud crack sounding through the air and Ion let out a choked gasp as a bullet tore its way through his skull. Smoke clouded around them from the discharge of the gun, but Cas cleared it with a wave of his hand and instantly spun back to look at Dean who let out a surprised chuckle through a wince. 

“Damn, Cas, nice shot.” 

Cas shrugged as he helped Dean sit up. “Inias taught me a few things before he died.” 

“More than a few things, Jesus,” Dean grunted as he sat up, cradling his injured arm. 

Cas let his fingers brush gently over the wound on Dean’s shoulder. “We need to stitch that up.”

Dean chuckled. “Did Inias teach you how to do that too? If not I can probably do it myself, or walk you through it.” 

Cas shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, he taught me enough,” he replied as he helped Dean to his feet. 

Dean let out a pained hiss as his shoulder jolted with the movement but he grit his teeth and followed Cas past Ion’s body and into the cabin. Cas pulled out a chair from the table and gestured towards it. 

“Sit,” he commanded. 

Dean sat and Cas quickly located the first aid kit while Dean tugged his shirt off to expose the angry wound beneath, blood was dripping down his chest and he felt it stick and harden against his skin. 

When Cas returned with the first aid kit, he placed the kit on the table and pulled the other chair up beside Dean’s. Dean bit the inside of his cheek as the first touch from the alcohol wipe stung against the edge of the bullet wound. Cas worked quickly and efficiently to clean the wound and when he reached for the needle Dean stopped him. 

“There’s a lighter by the fireplace, you should sterilize the needle.”

“I was just going to ask,” Cas said with a small smile as he stood to find the lighter. Once the needle was sterilized, he threaded it and knotted the thread. “Ready?” 

Dean nodded. “Just do it.” 

Cas lined up the needle against the wound and Dean sucked in a breath as the sharp tip punched through his skin. Cas went at the perfect pace, he didn’t try to go slow, knowing that it would only prolong the pain, instead he went at a smooth rhythm, and Dean bit his lip to keep from making any noise. 

When Cas clipped the end of the suture, Dean let out a breath and then offered Cas a smile. “Thanks.” 

“I’m just paying you back for all the stitches you gave me,” Cas said as he began to stick a bandage over the stitches. 

Dean chuckled and once the bandage was in place, he stood and slipped on a new shirt before he helped Cas put away the first aid supplies. “So, uh, Cas, what are we going to do about the body?” 

“I assumed we’d bury it,” Cas replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, as if killing someone and dealing with the body was a normal occurrence. 

Dean wanted to laugh at how well Cas was keeping his cool. He just killed a man, but he was acting as if he’d just swatted a simple house fly. Dean supposed that most of Cas’ behavior was probably due to shock, but he was still handling it better than most people would.

“Well, yeah, but we’re going to have to go for a bit of a hike. I don’t want to bury him near the cabin, just in case anyone stumbles upon the body.”

“How far away do you think we need to go?” 

Dean shrugged his good shoulder and spared a glance at Ion’s body, slowly bleeding on the ground outside. “Probably at least ten miles, and neither of us are in good enough shape to take a body that far.” 

“So we wait,” Cas replied. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to carry a decaying body ten miles.” 

“We could burn him,” Cas suggested. 

Dean frowned at Cas in thought for a second. “That’s not a horrible idea. We’re still going to have to move him, but we won’t have to go as far. I know a clearing that we can build a pyre on so it won’t catch the whole forest on fire.” 

Cas smiled at him as he set the first aid kit back on the ground by the bed. “Perfect.” 

“We can use the wheelbarrow out back.” 

Dean headed towards Ion’s body with any further preamble. His hurt shoulder tingled with pain as he hooked his hands under Ion’s shoulders, but he grit his teeth through it and began to drag him towards the wheelbarrow. Castiel joined him after a moment and he sighed in relief as some of the tension in his wounded shoulder lifted. 

Between the two of them it was relatively easy to lift Ion into the wheelbarrow and Dean went back inside to get a blanket to cover the body, just in case they passed any hikers on their way to the clearing. 

The walk took about a half an hour, they paused often to let their healing wounds have a break and they switched off pushing the wheelbarrow every ten minutes or so. Dean had found this clearing when he’d gone on a walk on one of his first weeks at the cabin. It was filled with soft grass and a stream of water ran along the edge of it. 

They set to work building a pyre out of large sticks they found. It was small, but off the ground away from the grass so it wouldn’t start a fire over the clearing. Dean wrapped up Ion’s body in the blanket, covering him from head to toe, and then he and Cas moved him to the pyre and Dean doused him in a small bit of lighter fluid and set him ablaze. 

They stepped back to watch the fire, far enough away that they couldn’t smell the scent of burning flesh, but close enough that they could keep an eye on the flames. They stayed there for a few hours, lighting the fire again when it burned out, and waited until there was nothing left of Ion but ash. 

Cas insisted on taking the wheelbarrow back so as not to hurt Dean’s shoulder more, and despite Dean’s protests that he was fine, Cas only tightened his hands on the handles and pushed ahead of Dean, leaving no room for argument. 

When they returned to the cabin, the sun was beginning to set, but Dean went straight to work pouring water over the blood outside the front door and scrubbing the ground clean. Cas worked on getting the gunpowder off his hands and on cleaning the wheelbarrow. Once they finished, they burned the clothes they’d been wearing, leaving nothing behind.

“We should leave,” Cas said as they finally settled down for the night, Cas insisting on taking the floor so Dean could have something soft against his wounded shoulder. 

Dean couldn’t help but agree, after the events of that day they weren’t safe here anymore. 

“Yeah, we should,” he agreed as he tilted his head to take in Cas in the dim moonlight that was shining through the window. 

Cas sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “Sooner rather than later. I have something important I need to get back to.” 

Dean propped himself up on his good arm as he took in the tightness in Cas’ voice. “Yeah? Are we at the point where you can tell me what the fuck is going on? I mean, you saw what happened today. I’m in danger no matter what, so spare me the courtesy of your protection and spill the beans.” 

Cas heaved another sigh and then shifted to look at Dean, blue eyes glinting in the silver beams of moonlight. “It’s complicated.”

“So uncomplicate it,” Dean said.

“It’s not that simple.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed a sigh. “I just helped you burn a body, you can trust me.” 

Cas hesitated for a moment and then started to talk. “My husband was a bodyguard,” he began. “He worked for people as high up as President Roman. Five months ago, he was sent on a mission to Korea with one of Roman’s advisors, and he never came back. Before he died he sent me something, information about a drug. I don’t know the specifics, but I think President Roman is involved, and judging by the fact that Inias _died_ to get this information to me, it’s important.” 

Dean stared at Cas in shock for a moment, his brain trying to catch up with the fact that Cas actually just answered his questions. “Shit, man,” he said at last. 

“I hid the memory stick with the data, but the people who had me won’t rest until they get it. They spent months torturing me about its location, but I never gave it up. I need to get back to it before anyone finds it.” 

Dean nodded slowly. “Okay.” 

****

They didn’t leave for another week. Dean had a lot of shit he needed to gather up and he ended up taking a few trips to Baby to put some things into her trunk in order to save them time later. On one of his many trips he also managed to contact Daniel Elkins, the man that Dean was renting the cabin from, and informed him that he was no longer in need of it and would be returning shortly.

When they were finally ready to go, it was mid afternoon and as Dean pulled out of the Impala-shaped parking spot for the last time and Cas plugged the directions to his house into Dean’s phone, it hit him that he was involved in something _huge_. If what Cas said was true, and President Roman was behind this secret drug, things were going to get even more dangerous than they already were. 

But for now, Dean didn’t let himself dwell on those thoughts, he just let the Impala purr under his hands and cranked up his music while he glanced over at Cas, who was sitting reserved in the passenger seat, head tilted to look out the window. 

After a moment, Dean focused his attention back on the road and began to nod along to Led Zeppelin; it was gonna be a long drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say, I know that this chapter is a bit inaccurate, they wouldn't be able to burn the body entirely to ash with just a simple lighter, but for the purpose of this story I'm going to ignore that and pretend like it's possible :)


	12. Honey Bee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter this week folks! I think I should be able to get the last few chapters out on time, even with my school work, so I will see y'all next week! :)

Castiel wasn’t sure how long they’d been driving, but when Dean pulled into a rest stop Cas found that he was grateful they were stopping. His body was stiff, healing wounds still occasionally twinging with pain. 

“You doing okay?” Dean asked as Castiel opened his door to the squealing of hinges. 

“Yes,” Castiel replied evenly as he rolled his shoulders, popping his travel-weary joints. 

“Here,” Dean tossed Cas his wallet and he caught it easily. “We’re only about halfway there, so go take a bathroom break and grab some food if you want while I fill up the tank.” 

“Is there any particular snack you’d like?” Cas asked as he slipped Dean’s wallet into his pocket. 

“Pie,” Dean replied with a grin. “Or beef jerky, or both, whatever they’ve got I’ll probably eat. Unless it’s salad or anything to do with vegetables.” 

Castiel stifled a chuckle as he shook his head and began to walk towards the little store. He hit the bathroom first and then began to peruse the shelves of junk food. He found Dean a piece of cherry pie and a bag of teriyaki beef jerky. For himself he bought a pre-made salad, partly just to spite Dean, but also because he hadn’t had anything green in months and he could feel it paying a toll on his body. On his way to the register he grabbed them both two water bottles and then paid with Dean’s credit card. 

Dean was just finishing with filling up the Impala’s gas tank when he returned. “I’m just gonna hit the head and then we can go.” 

Castiel watched as Dean headed off towards the store and he forced himself not to stare after him for too long before he climbed into the Impala, setting the bag of food on the floor by his feet and sifting through it to find his salad. 

When Dean returned he glared at Castiel’s salad in contempt. “Really?” 

“It’s good for you,” Castiel responded simply. 

Dean grumbled contempt, muttering something about how Castiel sounded like his brother, and then he reached for his pie, wolfing it down in five bites before he sent the Impala screeching out of the rest stop. Castiel balanced his salad on his lap and dug in, ignoring Dean’s gagging noises as he crunched on the romaine lettuce. He couldn’t help but smile as the rumble of the Impala echoed in his ears and the world blurred past outside the windows. Dean’s car truly was magnificent, and he was finding that he could get used to riding inside it’s sleek interior every day. 

Dean looked so content, a soft smile on his lips as he drummed his fingers absentmindedly against the steering wheel to the beat of classic rock blaring through the speakers. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was where Dean felt the most at home, the most _free_ ; inside his car, miles of road being eaten underneath black tires. 

“What?” Dean asked, just as Castiel was realizing he’d been staring. 

“Nothing,” he replied as he tore his eyes from Dean’s profile to look out the windshield.

“Something on your mind?” 

He shook his head. “No.” 

Dean glanced at him and then shifted back to look at the road. “You have no idea what we’re walking into, do you?” he asked after a moment. 

Again, Castiel shook his head. “None.” He sighed while he fidgeted with the small flip phone in his pocket. “I’d understand if you want to drop me off and be done with this. No one’s forcing you to help me.” 

Dean scoffed lightly and flashed Castiel a purely radiant smile. “You’re not gonna lose me that easily, Cas. I’m in this for the long haul.” 

Warmth budded in Castiel’s chest as he returned Dean’s smile. “Thank you.” He wasn’t sure that Dean knew just how indebted Castiel was to him; the man had saved his life, and now he was putting his own life on the line by fully deciding to help him. 

The rest of the car ride went on in relative silence. At one point, Castiel nodded off and woke up again from Dean shaking him and telling him they were at another rest stop. Much like their previous stop, Dean pumped the gas and Cas went inside to use the bathroom and get them more processed nourishment. 

When they set off again, Dean informed them that they were about two hours away from Cas’ D.C. home and for the first time since they left Castiel felt a small bubble of nervousness pop in his chest. He didn’t know what he was going to walk home to, or even if his house was still his since the government had apparently told the world that he was dead. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, picking up on Castiel’s sudden change in demeanor. 

Cas brushed off his concern with a shrug. “I’m fine.” Dean eyed him skeptically but didn’t push him further which Castiel was grateful for. 

When they finally pulled into Castiel’s driveway, it was past eleven at night and the house was shadowed in darkness. The lawn was overgrown, long blades of grass reaching towards the moon, as if they were trying to touch the stars. The front door, which Castiel remembered hearing get kicked in, had been replaced, the new door was white, standing out stark against the soft blue color of Castiel’s home; clearly someone had replaced it but hadn’t bothered to paint it. 

Castiel kicked at a few weeds poking up from the front walkway with his shoe and then assessed the state of the house. “I was worried the government might have sold my house, since I was presumed dead and all, but that doesn’t look like it’s the case.”

“That’s good at least,” Dean said as he came to stand beside Castiel who was now staring at the new front door. “Are we gonna stand out here all night or what?” 

Castiel shook himself. “Sorry.” 

With slight trepidation, Castiel mounted the front steps and just as his hand was closing on the doorknob he realized he didn’t have a key. 

“What is it?” Dean asked.

Cas blushed slightly, glad it was too dark for Dean to really see his face. “Um, I don’t have the key.” 

“Do you not have an extra stashed outside somewhere?” 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“Well, I can pick it.” 

Castiel raised an eyebrow at him. “Pick it?” 

Dean smirked. “Yeah, I got pretty good at it when I was younger, always on the road and such, broke into my fair share of places.” Castiel gaped at Dean, surprise radiating off him. There was still so much he didn’t know about Dean. “What? A boy’s gotta eat.” Dean snorted as he pushed past Cas to jiggle the locked door, pressing his ear to the doorframe. 

Castiel didn’t know what to say, so he opted not to say anything at all while Dean pulled a small knife from his pocket and set to work on the lock. It took a few minutes, but soon the door popped open and Dean turned to Cas with a grin. 

“After you.” 

The house was just as Castiel had left it, save the thick coat of dust covering everything and the scratches on the hardwood floor from where the old door had been kicked in. He couldn’t help but stop and stare for a moment, remembering when this place had felt like a home and not a constant reminder of everything he lost. 

“You okay?” Dean asked softly. Cas nodded and then moved towards the stairs with Dean following slowly on his heels.

The second he entered his room, he realized it was a mistake. While the front door had been replaced -by someone, God only knows who- the door to his bedroom was still splintered and hanging from its hinges where it had been kicked in on that fateful night. Dried blood crusted the floor, dark and ominous, and Castiel felt bile rise in his throat as tears pricked at his eyes. 

How had this happened? How had everything gone so wrong so fast? 

Castiel’s glassy eyes suddenly spotted the dusty picture of him and Inias on their wedding day. With shaking legs, he walked towards it, reaching out with equally as shaky hands to pick it up. His knees buckled under him and he sank down on the bed, a cloud of dust rising up around him from the motion. When he used his thumb to brush away the collection of thick dust coating the image, the tears finally spilled over his eyelids and a broken sob escaped his mouth. 

He didn’t realize that Dean’s arms were around him until he turned into his embrace, sobbing into his shoulder. “Shh, it’s okay,” Dean whispered, hands smoothing circles across his back.

It took about ten minutes for Castiel to calm down enough to pull away from Dean’s strong arms. “Sorry,” he sniffed as he wiped at the tracks of tears on his cheeks and dragged his eyes up to meet Dean’s gaze. He expected there to be pity or judgement there, but there wasn’t, just empathy. 

“Don’t apologize,” Dean replied. “You’ve been through a lot.” 

“I just miss him,” he said, voice watery.

“And you have every right to.”

Castiel cleared his throat and set the picture back on his nightstand. “There’s a guest room down the hall you can stay in.” 

Dean nodded, taking the topic change for what it was, a dismissal of everything involving Inias. “Thanks.” 

Cas sniffed again and licked his lips. “We’ll get the memory stick tomorrow.”

“You know I’ve been thinking about that, and I have a friend who might be able to help us out.” 

Cas shook his head vehemently. “No, I don’t want to put anyone else at risk.” 

Dean snorted at that. “Charlie is a wizard at everything related to computers and hacking, and she’d never turn down the opportunity to be a part of something like this, she’d be all over it, risk and all.” 

Castiel didn’t want to admit that he knew next to nothing about computers, and having someone around who knew what they were doing would be helpful, but he still didn’t like the idea. “I don’t know…” 

“Come on Cas, let people help you, you can’t do this alone.” 

With a heavy sigh, he nodded shakily. “Okay. In the morning you can call your friend.” 

Dean’s green eyes brightened in the soft lamplight of Castiel’s dusty room. “Great.” After a moment, Dean stood and headed towards the door. “Night, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.” 

Once Dean was gone, Castiel sat quietly for a moment, still trying to get over the fact that he was _home_ , that he made it out, at least for now. The tears came back briefly, but he forced himself to push them back down, swallowing thickly and then kicking off his shoes and crawling under the dusty mattress, not even bothering to strip the bed and put on fresh sheets. He was too tired to care, and as he curled up against his pillow, eyes falling onto the empty side of the bed, the cold pillow resting beside his head, he felt that pang in his heart again as he remembered that Inias was never coming back. 

His last thought as his exhausted body carried him into the realms of sleep, was that at least he had Dean now. 

_At least he had Dean now_.

****

When Castiel woke up, he stared blankly at the ceiling of his room, the habit he’d picked up in his cell was now ingrained in him; whenever he didn’t know what to do, he looked at the ceiling. 

His hands found their way into his pockets and his right hand brushed against his track phone. Instantly, he was sitting up, thumbing open his phone and clicking on the only contact he had saved to it: Gabriel.

Gabe picked up on the second ring. “Yello.” 

“Hey, it’s me.” 

A loud clatter sounded on the other side of the phone and Cas imagined that Gabriel had just dropped a tray or pot from his bakery. “Cassie?” 

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got home last night.” 

“Cas, be honest with me, what happened?” 

Cas shook his head, eyes falling back to the ceiling as he slumped onto his back. “I can’t tell you over the phone. Is there any chance you can make it here today?”

“Whatever you need, I’m there,” Gabriel replied. 

“I promise I’ll explain everything once you get here.” 

“You better,” Gabriel growled. “I need to know why I was informed you were _dead_.” 

“And I’ll tell you, just please get here soon.” 

“I’ll head out in about an hour or so,” Gabriel replied. “See you soon baby bro.” Gabriel hung up and Castiel stayed lying down for another few minutes before he decided that he should probably get up. 

What Castiel didn’t expect to see when he made his way downstairs, was Dean in the kitchen at the stove, humming to himself as he flipped pancakes. “Oh, hey!” Dean greeted him as he turned around in time to see Castiel enter the room. “I ran to the store to buy some stuff and made breakfast, I hope you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t mind at all,” Castiel replied as he sat himself down at the kitchen island and Dean placed a plate of steaming pancakes in front of him. 

“Now you can see that I can make other things than just soup,” Dean said with a soft chuckle.

“I never doubted you could,” Cas replied as he took his first bite of the blueberry pancake. He had to suppress a moan over the perfection of it, the way the batter was perfectly cooked and fluffy, and the sweetness of the blueberries as they popped in his mouth, speared by the sharp rocks of his teeth. “This is amazing,” he mumbled. 

Dean beamed at him as he flipped the last couple of pancakes from the pan and onto his own plate. “You think?” 

“This is the best thing I’ve tasted in months.” 

“Ah, that explains it,” Dean said as he sat down beside Cas, pouring syrup over his short stack. “This is the first real meal you’ve had in a while, of course it tastes amazing.” 

Cas shoved at Dean with his elbow, smiling through the blueberries staining his teeth. “It’s not just that. These truly are amazing.” 

Dean’s cheeks colored slightly and he ducked his head, cutting at his pancake with the side of his fork. “Thanks.” 

Castiel let a moment of silence pass between them while they ate, but eventually he broke the lapse in conversation. “My brother is going to come by.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes. I think he deserves to know what happened to me.” 

Dean nodded in agreement. “He’s family, of course he deserves to know.” 

After Castiel finished mopping his plate clean with his last pancake, he stood from the island and placed his dish in the sink. “I’m going to get dressed, then we can go get the memory stick.” 

“I’ll clean up,” Dean said as Cas headed towards the stairs. 

As he mounted the staircase, Castiel tried to stop thinking about how _nice_ it was to come downstairs and see Dean in the kitchen, broad shoulders hunched over the stove, expertly flipping pancakes like he belonged there. It was too easy to imagine waking up to that every morning, too easy to think about what it would feel like to have Dean beside him at night. 

Waking up to Dean’s eyes in the cabin had been like waking up to fresh spring air, dripping in dew and birdsong. As his thoughts began to run away from him, he felt the butterflies in his stomach return, and he instantly felt guilty for thinking of Dean that way. 

He dressed quickly, instead thinking about the memory stick that was (hopefully) still buried at the park. When he got back downstairs, he saw that Dean was just putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher and he straightened and offered Cas a small smile. 

“Ready to go?” 

“Yes. We’re going to need to drive, the park is about twenty minutes away.” 

“The park?” Dean echoed. 

“Yes.” 

“What, did you bury the thing?” 

“Sort of, you’ll see.” Castiel replied as Dean grabbed his keys from the counter and followed Cas out of the house.

Castiel directed Dean to the park and when they got there he nearly leaped out of the car in anticipation before Dean had even put it in park. “Woah there, slow your roll,” Dean said with a chuckle. 

Castiel hardly heard him as he stepped from the car and made a beeline for the large oak. All around him kids were playing with their friends while parents sat together on the benches, making idle chat, an ultimate Frisbee game was going on at the field that was separated from the rest of the tree filled park, and a few girls were playing a pick up basketball game at the small basketball court. 

When Castiel reached the tree, he dropped to his knees and reached inside the hole at the base of the tree, feeling around for the memory stick. Dean hovered behind him as Castiel’s hand rooted around the leaves and twigs that littered the interior of the rotting trunk. Just as Castiel was beginning to fear that the stick was gone, or some animal had taken it, his hand brushed against smooth plastic. 

One tug brought the bag holding the ring box out of the ground and Castiel fumbled to open it. He sighed in relief as the plastic bag holding the memory stick sprang free. “It’s here,” he breathed out. He straightened up quickly and pocketed the ring box before turning to Dean. “We should go.” 

He didn’t wait for Dean’s response, just headed back over to the Impala. Dean jogged to catch up to him and fell into step beside him. “So, I called Charlie this morning. She said she’s game to help.” 

“That’s good,” Cas replied, he was only half listening, too intent to get back home and view the contents of the memory stick, something he should have done when he first downloaded the data onto it. 

Dean seemed to take Castiel’s reply as dismissal of the conversation and didn’t try to talk to him again until they were back at the house and Castiel was booting up the dusty computer. When the home screen glowed back at them, Castiel inserted the memory stick and clicked on the large file of data. 

The box for a password appeared and Castiel smiled slightly to himself as he typed in the two words. 

_Honey Bee_.

His smile was instantly gone the second he saw what was on the files. Everywhere he looked there was information on LVTHN. According to the files, the drug was going to be inserted into every piece of processed food that went out to restaurants and stores. The drug would activate the emotional responses in the amygdala, causing bouts of severe anger that would last for several minutes and would then be unable to be remembered. It was going to be used to turn the American people against each other, and the world. Effectively creating chaos and possibly, in the future, war.

As Castiel continued to read, he felt his stomach knot with nausea. The drug was due to be released within the next week, it was going through the final trial phase this week and would then be shipped out from Korea to be implemented into society. 

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed, as he read over Castiel’s shoulder. 

“We need to get this information out into the world, we need to stop Roman,” Castiel said through clenched teeth as he fought tears again, thinking about how Inias had given his last breath to send this to him. 

“Charlie will help with that,” Dean said as he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. “I’ll tell her to come over.” 

Castiel nodded, his whole body shaking as he let all the information absorb into his mind. “Yes, do that.” 

Dean began to pace as he waited for Charlie to pick up. “Charlie, hey. Look, we really need your help over here, we’ve stumbled onto something big.” Castiel couldn’t hear Charlie’s reply but Dean was nodding. “Shit, okay. Yeah, we have time but not that much of it. Will tomorrow work? Great, see you then. I’ll text you the address.” 

“What is it?” Castiel asked as Dean hung up. 

“She said she’s really busy with work right now, and can’t get out of it, but she’ll come by tomorrow.” 

“Okay.”

Dean clapped his hands together with a smile. “Well, you’ve got a lawn that needs mowing and a house that needs dusting, and we’ve got nothing better to do, so where do you keep your lawnmower in this place?” 

Castiel chuckled at Dean’s enthusiasm to clean. “In the garage, like a normal person.” 

“Good, I was just checking in case you kept it in your hall closet like some sort of psycho,” Dean said with a cocky grin. 

Castiel rolled his eyes as he ejected the memory stick and stood from the computer chair. “Are you sure your shoulder is okay? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

Dean shrugged. “I’m fine.” 

Castiel only hesitated for a moment, taking in Dean’s statement. He couldn’t exactly argue with him, Dean did _look_ fine so Castiel just nodded. “I’ll show you where it is.” 

He brushed past Dean, trying not to pay attention to the butterflies in his stomach when his arm gently slid against Dean’s on his way out of the room. Dean followed him downstairs to the garage and when they stepped through the mudroom, Castiel nearly stopped at the sight of his car; he’d completely forgotten about his car. His Mark V Continental was covered in dust, but it was still there, sitting in the garage where he’d left it. Dean let out a choked sort of sound behind Cas. 

“Is this yours?” Dean asked. 

Cas nodded slowly, running fingerprint shaped marks through the dust on the hood. “Yes. I never thought I’d see it again,” he breathed out. 

“You’re not telling me you used to actually bring this outside? People _saw_ you in this?” 

Castiel turned to Dean with a confused expression on his face. “Yes. Why, what’s wrong with it?”

Dean balked slightly, eyes bugging as he stared at the car and then Cas. “I mean, nothing’s _wrong_ with it, it’s just…” Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, waiting for him to finish his sentence, but Dean just shook his head and let his eyes flick to the floor. “Never mind.” 

Castiel looked at Dean for another couple of seconds before he turned towards the back of the garage where they kept the lawnmower. “Well, this is it.”

“Great, thanks,” Dean said, a smile back on his face as he tugged the lawnmower towards the garage door. 

Castiel went to press the button to open the garage and then Dean saluted Castiel and disappeared outside. Castiel stared after him for a moment before turning around and heading back inside where he dug around for any cleaning products he might have. 

The growl of the lawnmower started up outside and Castiel caught a glimpse from the window of the kitchen of Dean pushing the mower across the overgrown grass. The butterflies started to flutter in his stomach again and he looked away, returning to his own task of cleaning the house.

As Castiel was just finishing up with vacuuming the living room, there was a knock on the door and he went to answer it. 

Gabriel stood behind the wood with a smirk on his face. “Hey baby bro,” he greeted.

Castiel didn’t wait for any preamble, he just surged forward and hugged his brother. He ignored the _umph_ sound Gabriel made and the dramatic gasping that came out of his mouth as he complained that he couldn’t breathe. 

“It’s good to see you,” Castiel said once he released him. 

Gabriel straightened out his jacket. “Yeah, you too.” He gestured behind himself at Dean, who was still mowing the lawn. “So, are you going to tell me who that hunk of a man is or do I have to guess?” 

Castiel rolled his eyes as he stepped aside to let Gabriel into the house. “That’s Dean.” 

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Oh, _Dean_ , is it?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m going to assume that the 67 Chevy in the driveway is his, because I know you didn’t get better taste in cars since the last time I saw you.”

Castiel sent a glare in Gabriel’s direction, but he nodded. “Yes, that’s his.” 

“So, you going to tell me what the Hell happened?” Gabriel asked as he flopped down onto the recently cleaned couch. 

Castiel sat beside him, trying to get his thoughts together, he didn’t even know where to begin. “Well… a lot’s happened to me in these past months.” 

“Go on,” Gabriel invited. 

Castiel took a deep breath, and told him. He told him about Inias leaving for his mission, he told him about Inias’ video, about hiding the memory stick, about being kidnapped, pronounced dead, about all the torture. He told him about Toni Bevell and her dream serum, about Samandriel and how he died to help him escape, about the bear and being shot, and finally about Dean. 

The whole time Gabriel’s expression kept darkening in anger and horror, but a smile was on his lips when Castiel told him about Dean and how he saved his life and helped him with his recovery. He even told Gabriel about Ion and burning the body, which was still something that Castiel couldn’t even believe he did. 

When he finished, Gabriel just stared at him in shock. “Holy shit.” 

“It’s a lot, I know.” 

“ _A lot_!” Gabriel shouted. “Cas, what they did to you… I’m so sorry.” 

There were tears glossing over Gabriel’s eyes and Castiel felt a pang of pain hit his heart, he hated seeing his brother cry. “There was nothing you could’ve done.” 

“I could’ve been there more,” Gabriel snapped in reply. “I would’ve known something was off when you disappeared if I was around more… I would’ve found you… I would’ve-” 

“Gabriel, it’s okay.” 

The tears slipped from Gabriel’s eyes and he pulled Castiel into a bone-crushing hug. “Still, I’m so sorry Cassie.”

All Castiel could do was hug his brother back and when they pulled apart, he found that he had his own tears staining his cheeks; he brushed them away with a hand and then offered Gabriel a smile.

“So,” Gabriel said as he sniffed. “How do we fight these bitches?” 

“Dean has a friend who’s going to help us.” 

“Damn right I do.” 

Castiel turned on the couch to see Dean standing in the doorway, sweat dripping from every orifice of his body, spiking his hair and soaking his t-shirt. 

Gabriel rose from the couch and surveyed Dean as he kicked off his shoes. “So, _Dean_.” 

Dean grinned. “Yeah?” 

Gabriel eyed Dean up and down and Dean shifted slightly under the scrutiny. “You saved Cassie?” 

Dean nodded, glancing over at Castiel briefly, who was watching the whole scene unfold with amusement. “Uh, yeah, that’s right.” 

“Thank you for that, but I have to ask, what are your intentions with my baby brother?” Gabriel asked. 

Dean choked on air and Castiel found himself watching the movement with curiosity. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Gabriel,” Castiel warned. “Leave him alone.” 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Gabriel said, holding a hand up in Castiel’s direction. “It’s a simple question Dean-O. What are your intentions with my brother?” 

“Uh, I- well, I don’t- I mean,” Dean stuttered and Castiel’s interest piqued just as the butterflies in his stomach took flight. 

_Could Dean possibly feel something for him?_

Dean steeled himself briefly. “I mean, I’m trying to not get him killed so I guess, that’s my intention.” 

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed and Castiel saw Dean’s throat ripple as he swallowed. “Uh huh.” 

“Gabriel,” Castiel said again, this time a sharper edge to his voice.

Gabriel sighed as he continued to eye Dean. “Alright, alright. I’ll accept your answer… for now.” 

Dean and Castiel exchanged a glance, Dean’s eyes seemed to be saying _what the Hell was that about?_ And all Castiel could do was offer Dean an apologetic shrug while he led his brother into the kitchen so Dean could go change and presumably take a shower. 

For the rest of the day, Gabriel helped him and Dean clean the house. All the while, Gabriel kept looking over at Dean, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and Dean would sometimes meet Gabriel’s stare with one of his own. 

By the time the house was clean and the laundry machine was pumping out its third load of sheets and clothes, it was dark out, the sun having already disappeared into the horizon. 

“I don’t know about you guys,” Dean said as he leaned against the kitchen island, “but I’m starving.” 

“We could order pizza,” Castiel suggested. 

Dean shook his head as he moved over to the fridge and tugged it open. “As much as I love pizza, I have something better planned.” 

Castiel watched as Dean pulled a container of ribs from the depths of the fridge. “Where did those come from?” Castiel asked in wonder. 

“I bought them this morning, they’ve been marinating all day. Do you have a grill?”

It took Castiel a moment to pull himself out of his shock, Dean was so full of surprises. “Uh, yeah, out back.” 

Dean smiled. “Great. I’ll get to work on these bad boys and then we’ll eat.” 

As Dean disappeared out the back door to go fiddle with the grill, Gabriel fixed Castiel with an amused look. “Great guy you have there.”

Castiel frowned. “Dean and I aren’t together.” 

Gabriel crooked an eyebrow at him. “Really? Because where I’m standing, it sure looks like you are. I mean come on, the way Dean keeps looking at you, and the way you look at him, you’d have to be blind to think you don’t like each other.” 

Castiel blinked at his brother in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You are so dense sometimes, Cassie,” Gabriel groaned. “Do I need to spell it out for you? He. Likes. You. You. Like. Him. So kiss and walk off into the sunset together.”

Castiel felt a blush rise on his cheeks. “I don’t like him like that,” he muttered.

“Uhuh,” Gabriel huffed as Castiel’s blush deepened. “Quit fooling yourself baby bro. Dean seems like a good guy, so why not go for it?”

Cas sighed, bringing his eyes up to meet his brother’s honey-brown ones. “I can’t, Gabriel.”

“Why not?” 

“I can’t do that to Inias,” Castiel replied.

Gabriel’s expression softened marginally and he moved around the kitchen island to place a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “It’s okay to move on.” 

“Not this soon,” Castiel answered brokenly. “I’ve hardly had time to grieve him, I can’t just let go.” 

“Hey, no one’s asking you to forget Inias, but he’d want you to be happy, wouldn’t he?” 

Castiel nodded slowly. “Yes.” 

“So, be happy.” 

“It’s not that simple,” Castiel replied. 

“It’s your life kiddo, just don’t let this hold you back.” He watched Gabriel go off towards the backdoor, and he briefly heard him asking Dean if there was anything he could do to help, the answer to which was no, so Gabriel started up a conversation with Dean over the sizzle of meat on the grill and Castiel left them to it.

He collapsed onto the couch, his eyes flickering across the room. Over the fireplace, there was a picture of him and Inias holding hands at their wedding, the mantle held one of him and Inias in front of the oak at the park, another was a picture of a bumble bee perched on Castiel’s finger. An ache in his chest burst to life and Castiel had to force himself not to cry. 

He missed Inias so much. He wanted him back, wanted his comfort. He wanted the warmth of waking up beside him as he stared into the soft baby blue of his eyes. He knew he’d never have these things again, at least not with Inias. If what Gabriel said was true, and Dean might _possibly_ have feelings for him, Castiel couldn’t bring himself to think about starting a painfully similar life with Dean. He felt like it would insult Inias’ memory, like it would tarnish everything they ever had; he couldn’t do that, he _wouldn’t_ do that. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually Dean announced that dinner was ready and Castiel joined him and Gabriel at the dining room table. The ribs were absolutely _delectable_ and he had to suppress a moan as he took a bite of the tender meat. 

“This is fucking amazing,” Gabriel commented and Dean blushed with pride. 

“Thanks.” 

They continued to eat, finishing off the whole plate of ribs, their appetites blown wide from all the housework they did today, and it wasn’t until they were each licking their fingers clean and wiping them on napkins, that Castiel decided to address something that had been in the back of his mind since he’d opened the files on the memory stick this morning. 

“So,” he began. “I figured I should tell you both the password to the memory stick, just in case they come for me again, someone else should know it.” 

“Cas, that’s not going to happen,” Dean said. “Not while I’m around.” 

“What he said,” Gabriel agreed. 

“Still, just in case. It’s honey bee.” 

Gabriel let out a fond little chuckle and Castiel knew that he understood the reason behind the password. Dean on the other hand let out more of an amused laugh. “That’s cute, Cas.” 

“It’s what Inias used to call me,” Castiel said. 

Dean’s smile fell instantly, to be replaced by a more reserved look. “Oh. How’d that nickname come about?” 

Castiel felt a small smile tickle the corner of his mouth. “It all started the day I met Inias,” Castiel began.

_The park was Castiel’s favorite place to go in every season of the year._

_In winter, it was decorated in white, usually snow blanketed the branches of the trees, like their very own winter coats. Cold snowflakes would fall from the sky and the telltale crunch of snow under his shoes would follow him wherever he walked._

_In spring, the soft sounds of birds waking up in the morning would drift down from the tops of trees, their nests unseen to the prying eyes of those walking under them, hidden by the budding leaves. The sweet smell of blooming flowers would fill the air as browned grass turned green again._

_In summer, it was almost too hot to go to the park, but Castiel would stifle the heat just to go for a walk when the park was in full bloom. He would often watch the bees move from one flower to another, pollinating each blossom as they passed by._

_In fall, the colors of the trees leaked reds and yellows. Sometimes leaves would fall gently to the ground in front of him, drifting on small gusts of wind that would soon grow colder as winter dawned. The smell of fallen leaves in the air was always refreshing and Castiel loved to take a few moments to breathe in the smell of fall before he continued on his walk._

_It was summer right now, and Castiel was busy following a honey bee back to its nest, watching as it made its way through the air, bobbing and weaving as the warm breeze caught under its wings and body. He was so absorbed in watching the bee that he didn’t see the man in front of him until he’d collided so hard with him that they both stumbled and the stranger’s hands came up to grab at Castiel’s arms to steady him._

_“Are you alright?” the man asked._

_Castiel blinked at the man, he wasn’t much taller than him, but it was just enough for him to have to look down. “Yes, sorry. I’m fine. Are you?”_

_“I’m okay.”_

_Castiel smiled at him, feeling the warmth rising from his arms where the man’s hands still rested. He took a step back, moving slightly away from the man. “I’m Castiel.”_

_“Inias.”_

_“Nice to meet you, sorry for bumping into you, I was following a honey bee, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”_

_Inias chuckled, blue eyes shining with amusement. “Following a honey bee?”_

_“Yes. They’re fascinating creatures.”_

_Inias smiled, and Castiel felt himself smile in return. “Would you care to tell me about them?”_

_“If you’re interested,” Castiel replied warmly._

_“I am,” Inias answered earnestly._

_Castiel glanced over at the tree they were standing beside, it was a big oak with an ancient looking trunk that was big enough for them both to sit together side by side. They sat there for hours, Castiel telling Inias all about honey bees and how they make their honey, and Inias listening to every word, hanging off them like he could never be more interested in anything else._

“So that’s how I met Inias,” Castiel finished. “He called me honey bee because of the bee I was following.” 

Dean’s face had softened as he listened and he was smiling fondly. “Inias seems like he was a really good guy.” 

Castiel nodded slowly. “He was.”

“So, who’s this friend of yours, Dean?” Gabriel asked, steering to topic away from Inias before Castiel could start to get emotional again. 

“Her name’s Charlie, she’s a fucking master at everything involving computers. She’ll be able to help us expose Roman.” 

“You trust her?” Gabriel asked skeptically.

Dean’s face hardened, every part of his happy demeanor slipped away to be replaced by seriousness. “With my life,” he replied. 

Gabriel nodded slowly. “Okay.” 

With dinner over and the conversation waning into silent territory, Castiel stood up and reached for the empty dishes to take them into the kitchen. Dean and Gabriel followed him and helped load the dishwasher before Castiel declared that he was going to bed and that Dean and Gabriel could fight for the guest bedroom or the couch. 

As Castiel made his way up the stairs, he heard Dean tell Gabriel that he could have the guest bed and that he’d just stay on the couch. Gabriel tried briefly to get Dean to change his mind, but Dean was adamant that Gabriel take the bed, and soon Gabriel’s foot steps were climbing the stairs. 

As Castiel settled into his empty bed, he felt a few tears slip from the corners of his eyes. He brushed them away quickly, and then shifted onto his side, pressing his cheek into the pillow and trying to even out his breathing. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.


	13. Show Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters to go! 
> 
> Enjoy this one :)

The moment Dean woke up, he immediately regretted giving Gabriel the guest bed. His shoulder was flaring with pain, his heartbeat throbbing where the bullet had punctured his skin. Mowing the lawn hadn’t helped in any way, nor had grilling, and he was feeling the effects of trying to do too much too soon. It was nearing the second week since he’d been shot, but the wound was only just starting to heal under the stitches and any extensive movement caused needles of pain to rush up his arm. 

With a groan, Dean peeled himself off the couch and rolled his stiff neck, letting it crack and pop. He glanced at the clock over the stove in the next room and saw that it was only 7:30; the sun must have woken him up. 

It was a few moments later, that Dean realized it hadn’t been the sun that had jolted him from his aching sleep, but a sound coming from upstairs. It took him a second to realize that it was Cas, soft whimpers and screams were coming from his room and Dean hesitated for a second, wondering if maybe Gabriel would go check on his brother or if he should just let Cas be. But after five minutes slowly ticked by and Cas didn’t seem like he was going to stop, Dean mounted the stairs and made his way to Cas’ room. 

Hesitantly, he pushed open the broken door and squinted into the din of the room. Cas was wrapped up tightly in his white sheets, cries of pain coming from his mouth. Dean stood in the doorway for another few seconds before he moved forward and let his hands fall onto Cas’ whimpering frame. 

“Cas,” he said as he gently shook him. “Cas! Wake up!” 

Cas grunted and cried out underneath him but after Dean shook him again his blue eyes popped open, the fear still fresh in the whites of his eyes. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” Dean said soothingly as Cas blinked a few times in confusion. 

“Dean?” 

“Yeah, you were having a, uh, nightmare,” he replied awkwardly as he stepped away from the bed. 

“Oh,” Cas said softly, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Thanks for waking me.” 

“Sure, no problem.” 

“I haven’t had a nightmare in a long time,” Cas stated. 

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. “Seriously? After all you’ve been through?” 

Cas shrugged, pulling the blanket away from his legs. “I couldn’t really afford to have nightmares. When I could sleep, I needed to sleep. But now,” Cas scratched at the back of his neck and licked his lips, “I guess everything is catching up with me.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dean asked. 

Castiel shook his head. “No, but thank you.” 

Dean shrugged. “Sure.” 

“And thank you for waking me.” 

“Of course, man. I’m gonna make some breakfast if you want to join me.” 

“Thank you, I will.” 

Dean smiled as Cas unraveled himself from the sheets. “Awesome.”

Dean made them omelets and then sat down on the couch to watch some TV. By the time Gabriel found his way downstairs, it was almost noon. 

“Morning sunshines,” Gabriel said as he sauntered into the kitchen. 

“There’s only ten minutes left in the morning,” Cas said with a shake of his head. 

“So?” 

“So you’re making your own breakfast,” Dean replied as he turned his attention back to the television. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes but disappeared into the kitchen, his departure was soon followed by the clanging and clattering of pans and Dean saw Cas roll his eyes. “He’s the loudest person I know.” 

Dean chuckled as he leaned back on the couch. “Is that so?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m not _that_ loud!” Gabriel complained from the kitchen. 

“Yes you are!” Cas shouted back. 

Dean smiled as he listened to the brother’s banter. It was nice to see Cas so relaxed around his family, and while part of Dean felt like he was intruding on a brotherly reunion, another part of him felt like he belonged here, on Cas’ couch, listening to his brother bang around in the kitchen.

Before his thoughts could entirely run away from him, the doorbell rang and Dean shot to his feet to answer the door. 

“Dean!” Charlie exclaimed the second the door was open. Dean only saw a blur of red before he was being squeezed so tightly that he thought he was going to pop like a balloon. 

“Hey Charlie,” he gasped out. 

Charlie released him and then held him at arm's length, looking him up and down. “Looking good for a guy who just spent two months in the woods.”

Dean swatted playfully at her and she dodged the blow with a giggle and stepped farther into the house, where Cas had stood up from the couch. “Hello,” he greeted her, holding out his hand. 

Charlie completely ignored his proffered hand and instead pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Cas gasped in surprise and when Charlie let him go she grinned at him. “So you’re Castiel.” 

“Yes. Did you have a safe flight?”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, it was alright, I could've done with some hotter flight attendants but it was enjoyable.” 

“You can never go wrong with hot flight attendants.”

Dean turned to see Gabriel standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a piece of toast in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other.

“I’m Gabriel,” he said. “Cas’ brother.”

Charlie smiled at him. “Nice to meet you both. So, what do I need to do?” 

“I’ll show you the memory stick,” Cas replied. 

Dean followed Cas and Charlie up the stairs to the computer while Gabriel went back into the kitchen to finish his breakfast. Cas booted up the computer and then opened the memory stick and stepped back so Charlie could sit down and look through it. 

“Holy shit,” Charlie breathed out as she read the files. 

“I figured you’d be able to help us get all this information out to the world,” Dean said. 

Charlie nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah I can do that. It’ll take some time, but I can do it.” 

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Cas asked. 

Charlie shook her head as she cracked her knuckles and placed them over the keyboard. “Nope. I’ve got it from here. I’ll have this all over the internet by tonight.” 

“Okay then,” Dean said as he began to back out of the room. 

Castiel followed him and they headed downstairs to the sound of Charlie clicking away at the keyboard. “She seems to know what she’s doing,” Cas commented as they sat back down on the couch. 

“She always knows what she’s doing,” Dean replied with a chuckle. 

“So what’s the plan?” Gabriel asked as he came into the room nursing a cup of coffee. 

“Charlie’s handling it,” Dean replied. “She said she should have Roman exposed to the world by tonight.” 

“Tonight?” Gabriel echoed. 

Dean smirked. “Yup. She’s good like that.” 

Gabriel let out an impressed huff as he sat down in a plush chair beside the couch. “So this is going to impact Roman, but what about the people who _kidnapped_ my brother?” 

“I think most of them are dead already,” Cas said quietly. “When I escaped there didn’t seem to be very many of them left. It was weeks until Ion found me, which most likely means that they didn’t have very many people they could spare to look for me.” 

“I don’t like the idea of _any_ of them still kicking,” Gabriel growled. 

“Neither do I,” Dean agreed. “But I think if Charlie does this right, the names of everyone involved with Roman and the covering up of LVTHN and its purpose, will be exposed.” 

Gabriel glowered at Dean for a moment before he nodded stiffly. “They better be.” 

As Gabriel and Cas began to chat, Dean’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out to see Sam’s name blinking at him. “Sammy,” he greeted as he stood up and headed into the kitchen. 

“So you are back,” Sam said, cutting to the chase. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry I meant to call.” 

“How long have you been back?” 

“A day. I’ve been dealing with a lot of shit, so I didn’t really have time to shoot you a text.” 

“Well, how about we meet up for lunch and you can tell me all about your crazy adventures in the woods.” 

Dean spared a glance into the living room to see that Gabriel had taken Dean’s seat on the couch and Cas was looking at him with a small smile, laughter in his eyes. Dean smiled at the scene and then turned back to the phone in his hand. 

“You know, I would Sammy, but I’m not in Maine anymore.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, I’m in D.C.”

“D.C.?” Sam echoed. 

“Yeah.” 

“How did that happen?” 

“Like I said, it’s a long story.” 

“Well I’ve got time.” 

“It’s not safe to discuss over the phone,” Dean said hesitantly. 

Sam let out a short huff on his end of the line. “Dean, answer me honestly. Are you in legal trouble?” 

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Oh Sammy, ever the worrying lawyer. No, I’m not in any legal trouble… yet.” 

“Yet?” 

“Yeah, I’ve kind of found myself involved with something pretty big. You’ll probably see it on the news tomorrow if all goes to plan.” 

“The _news?_ Dean, what’s going on?” 

“If you can find your way to D.C. I’ll explain, but I’m not saying anything else over the phone.”

“Dean, are you sure you’re okay?” 

Dean nodded as he looked back over at Cas and Gabriel. “Yeah Sammy, I’m good.” 

“Hang on, I know that tone of voice,” Sam said with a small huff of disbelief. “You met someone, didn’t you?” 

Despite the fact that they were speaking over the phone, Dean still blushed. “What? No. Well, yes, but no.” 

“Who is she, or he?” 

Dean sighed. He knew Sam wouldn’t just drop the topic so he leaned against the kitchen island and lowered his voice. “It’s a he,” he admitted.

Sam let out a small little whoop that crackled in Dean’s ear. “That’s great, Dean. How’d you meet?” 

“I uh, I kind of saved his life.” 

“How’d you do that from your little cabin in the woods?” 

“Well, he was attacked by a bear, and he somehow managed to find the cabin.” 

“A bear? Holy shit.” 

“Yeah. It was pretty ugly. He’d have been dead within an hour if he hadn’t found me.” 

“Look at you, saving lives.” 

“Yeah, I guess Dad’s rigorous training actually paid off.” 

“I guess so,” Sam agreed. “Well, I wish you both happiness then, and I’d like to meet him sometime.”

“Slow your roll, Sammy. I don’t even know if he likes me back.” 

“So go find out.” 

“I can’t just… his brother is here man. So is Charlie. It just wouldn’t be right.” 

“Okay, point made.” 

“Look, I should really go. But when this whole thing is over I promise we’ll get lunch and I’ll tell you everything.” 

“You better.” 

“I’m a man of my word.” 

“And if you’re in any legal trouble, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get you out of it.” 

“Come on Sammy, we both know you could get me out of anything.”

“Doesn’t mean I should.” 

“Yeah whatever, bitch.” 

“Jerk.” 

Dean hung up with a small laugh and then headed back into the living room where Gabriel was in the middle of telling Cas about someone named Kali. 

“She’s a _goddess_ I’m telling you,” Gabriel said. 

“I’ll take your word for it.” 

Gabriel instantly turned to Dean and held out his phone where a picture of a radiant looking woman in a red dress was presented on the screen. “Look at her and tell me she’s not absolute perfection.” 

Dean blinked, slightly taken aback at Gabriel’s abruptness but as he looked closer at the woman he couldn’t deny that she was beautiful. “She’s pretty hot, yeah.” 

Gabriel grinned at that and turned to Cas smugly. “Told ya.” 

“I never denied it!” Cas protested. 

“You’re just gay as a rainbow so you can’t see it, but she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see that she is beautiful.”

“I’m going to marry her,” Gabriel stated as he slid his phone back in his pocket. 

“Good luck with that,” Cas said. 

“She’s totally into me,” Gabriel replied defensively.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Cas said with a snort. Gabriel huffed but didn’t say anything more, so Cas turned to Dean. “Who were you talking to?” 

“My brother. I meant, to tell him I wasn’t living in the woods anymore, but it slipped my mind with everything going on.” 

“I’m sure he was happy to hear from you,” Cas said.

“He was. It was good to hear from him too.”

“Did you tell him about what we’re trying to do?” Cas asked. 

“No, I figured it wouldn’t be safe over the phone. We don’t know who’s listening.” 

“Smart move,” Gabriel agreed. 

“Well,” Dean said as he stood up. “I know you just ate, Gabriel, but I’m hungry for some lunch.” 

“I’m hungry as well,” Cas said. 

“Great. I could whip something up or we could go out,” Dean offered. 

Cas seemed to perk up at that. “Where would we go? It’s been ages since I’ve been to a restaurant.” 

Dean shrugged. “Wherever you want. Do you want to come, Gabriel?” 

Gabriel shook his head. “Nah, I’ll stay here with the computer genius in case she needs some backup. You two enjoy your date.” 

Dean blushed slightly just as Cas mumbled, “It’s not a date, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel looked between them and scoffed slightly. “Sure it isn’t.” 

Dean picked up his keys and began to fiddle with them while Cas stood up. “Okay, well, we’ll be back in a bit I guess. Have Charlie text me with any food she might want.” 

“Sure thing,” Gabriel said as he saluted. 

“Alright Cas, come on.” 

Cas followed Dean out the door and instantly apologized. “I’m sorry about him.” 

Dean shrugged, trying to play it cool. “It’s okay. Brothers, man, I got one too.” Cas nodded at him, a small quirk to his lips as he followed Dean to the Impala. 

Dean drove them to a local Biggerson’s and Cas’ eyes practically bugged out of his head when their food arrived; it was like he’d never seen a burger before. Dean watched in amusement as Cas bit into it and let out a soft moan. 

“This is amazing.” 

“It’s just a burger, Cas,” Dean said with a laugh. 

“It’s an _amazing_ burger,” Cas corrected him.

“Can’t argue with you there,” Dean said as he took a bite of his own burger. 

They ate in companionable silence, all the while Dean couldn’t help but steal small glances at Cas. He watched the way his throat rippled as he swallowed, the way his plush lips wrapped around his straw, the way his blue eyes always seemed to see right through Dean, right into every part of him that he kept hidden from everyone else. 

“Do you think Charlie will really be able to expose Roman?” Cas asked as he pushed a melting blob of ice cream around in his dish. 

“I really do.” 

“She seems like a good friend.” 

“She’s the best,” Dean said fondly. 

“I’m sorry for dragging you into all this.” 

“Cas, what did I tell you about apologizing? You’re not forcing me to be involved in this, I’m doing it because I want to.” 

Cas blinked up at him, blue eyes round. “You’re sure?” 

Dean dared to reach out and give Cas’ hand a reassuring pat. “Positive.” 

Cas smiled at him, a wide gummy smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Okay.” When the waiter came back with a to-go burger that they’d ordered for Charlie, Cas insisted on paying the bill and wouldn’t let Dean get in a word of protest. “You’ve been paying for everything since I met you, let me pay for this.” 

“Fine,” Dean sighed. Cas grinned in triumph and let the waiter walk away with his credit card. 

“Thank you for this,” Cas said as they paused beside the Impala.

“Any time,” Dean replied as his heart fluttered in his chest at the soft look in Cas’ eyes. Cas started to reach for the door handle but Dean stopped him, an impulse suddenly overtaking him. “Look, Cas, I…” 

Cas tilted his head to the side, squinting as he frowned at Dean in confusion. “What?” 

Before he could second guess himself, Dean moved forward and pressed his lips to Cas’. Cas flinched at the contact and Dean felt him freeze, it was only for a moment, and then he was kissing Dean back. 

_Cas was kissing him back_. 

It took Dean a moment to really understand that Cas was actually reciprocating, but just as he managed to wrap his head around that concept, Cas suddenly pulled away with a sharp gasp. 

“No, Dean, I- I-I-’m sorry. I c-can’t. I can’t.” 

_Shit_. 

“I’m sorry-” Dean began.

“No,” Cas held up a hand. He let out a dry chuckle, but Dean saw tears starting to form in his eyes. “Please don’t be sorry.” 

“Cas?” Dean asked tentatively, as a tear dropped from Cas’ eye. 

Cas swiped at the offending tear and fixed Dean with the most heartbroken look he’d ever seen. “You have no idea how badly I want this, Dean,” he began. 

Dean’s heart soared at those words, despite the inevitable _but_ that he knew was coming.

Cas sniffed and brushed another tear away from his cheek. “Ever since I first woke up in that cabin, I knew I was going to fall for you. How could I not? You’re kind, caring, generous, perfect in every way, I was doomed from the start.” 

Dean blushed, ducking his head to look at the pavement under his feet. “You’re one to talk,” he said quietly. “With your blue eyes, and your deep voice. I didn’t stand a chance either.” 

Cas huffed a broken laugh. “I want to be with you, Dean. I do. But I can’t, not when I think about Inias every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep. If I let us be something, I’m never going to stop feeling guilty for leaving Inias behind so quickly. I still love him, he was my husband and I miss him everyday.” 

Dean nodded slowly. “I understand, Cas. I do.” 

“I just need time.” 

“I get it man. Take all the time you need.” 

Cas sniffed again, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “So we’re good?” 

Dean smiled. “We’re good.” 

The drive back to Cas’ house wasn’t as awkward as Dean thought it was going to be, they just listened to music and let a soft silence fall between them. When they got back to the house, Gabriel was the first person they saw. He was spread across the couch, a bowl of potato chips on his lap and a soda in his hand. 

“Oh hey,” he said when they walked in. “Did you two kids have fun?” 

“It was an enjoyable experience,” Cas replied easily. 

“Yeah?” Gabriel asked as he sat up further on the couch. 

“I’m going to go give this to Charlie,” Dean said as he gripped the Biggerson’s to-go bag tighter and headed up the stairs. 

One knock on the door earned him a shout of “What!?” 

“I’m just bringing you food,” Dean replied as he pushed his way into the room. 

“Oh, thanks,” Charlie said, her eyes never leaving the computer screen. 

“How’s it going?” he ventured to ask. 

“I’m so close,” Charlie replied through gritted teeth. “I’m just double checking the encryption I put on the information so it can’t be traced back to us.” 

“Yeah, we don’t want that.” 

Dean watched as Charlie’s eyes seemed to move a mile a minute as she scanned the screen, fingers flying across the keyboard. “Okay,” she breathed out after a moment, hands stilling on the keyboard. 

“You’re done?” Dean asked. 

“Not quite, now I need to send it to every news article and website out there and I’m sending a direct order to shut down production of this drug in Korea and to have every sample destroyed.” Charlie clicked the mouse once and Dean watched a green bar appear on the screen that slid quickly through to completion. “Now, I’m done,” she said as she spun around in the chair, a smug smile on her face. 

Dean gaped at her. “Just like that?” 

“Just like that.” 

“Holy shit!” Dean exclaimed as he yanked Charlie up from the chair and pulled her into a hug. He took her hand and dragged her down the stairs. “Guys! She did it, Charlie did it!” 

“No way,” Gabriel said in surprise. 

“It’s really done?” Cas asked. 

“It’s really done,” Dean replied. 

Charlie nodded in affirmation. “Consider Dick Roman, officially, exposed.”


	14. The Fall of Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, here they are, the last two chapters. I decided to post them together because they were both very short.  
> So please enjoy and let me know what you think :)

It wasn’t until the next day that Castiel saw that Charlie really had, indeed, done it. The news was rampant with every piece of data Charlie had managed to send out about LVTHN and Dick Roman’s involvement. Reporters were scrambling to get outside the Whitehouse and catch a glimpse of the President, who refused to give a statement. 

“We need to celebrate,” Gabriel announced as a reporter began to talk about how investigators will be looking into these allegations but things are not looking good for the President. 

“I’m down to go to a bar,” Dean said. 

“Me too,” Charlie chimed in.

“I haven’t had a drink in months,” Castiel said with a soft laugh. 

“A bar it is,” Gabriel quipped as he stood up.

“I’ll drive,” Dean offered. 

“Good, because I want to ride in that pretty car of yours,” Gabriel said with a grin. 

Dean rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Well, Charlie gets shotgun since this wouldn’t have happened without her.”

“Fair enough,” Gabriel agreed. 

Once they’d all piled into the Impala, Dean sent them off towards a bar with Castiel’s direction. The bar wasn’t that busy, as it was still afternoon, but Dean bought them all the first round, and Castiel let the tingle of alcohol fill up his veins. It had been so long since he’d had a drink, and it felt  _ good _ . 

“So, Cassie,” Gabriel said as they slid into a booth while Dean and Charlie went to order them food and more drinks. 

“Yes?” 

“You gonna tell me what happened yesterday?” 

Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion. “What are you talking about?” 

“When you and Dean got back from your little date, you were acting weird, so something happened. Spill.” 

Castiel sighed and looked over his shoulder to make sure Dean was out of earshot, but he was still at the bar counter with Charlie, laughing about something the redhead must have said. 

“Dean kissed me.” 

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “No kidding? Really?” 

“Yes.” 

“So why aren’t you together!?” 

Castiel sighed. “Need I repeat myself again? You know why.” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. “He’d want you to be happy, Cassie.” 

“I know, but I can’t let myself, not yet.” 

“You  _ can  _ let yourself, you just don’t  _ want  _ to.” 

“We’re not getting into this, not here.” 

“I just don’t want you to miss out on being with someone who will make you happy.” 

The conversation ended abruptly as Dean and Charlie came back, Dean holding more beers for all of them and Charlie lofting a plate of nachos. 

“We’re gonna eat will tonight,” Dean declared. Charlie cheered and Gabriel clinked his glass against Castiel’s before taking a sip. 

The rest of the day went by in a blur of drinks and good food. Their conversation changed from Dick Roman to cars to who the best Harry Potter character was (Castiel was a bit lost on that last one, much to Charlie’s dismay). 

By the time they made it home, they were all significantly drunk. Dean was less so, since he had to drive, but everyone else could barely put one foot in front of the other and giggles filled the air as they all tried to get into the house. Gabriel fell onto the couch with Charlie beside him and both of them instantly passed out. 

Castiel was a little more sober and so he was able to make it up the stairs, with Dean behind him. They went their respective ways, and with the alcohol aiding his tired body, he fell asleep. 

****

Over the next couple of days, the news was covering angry citizens who had taken to the streets in riots and protests, demanding that Roman be removed from office. 

Charlie had returned home and Gabriel had just headed out himself, declaring that he needed to get back to his bakery before his employees burnt the place down. Now it was just him and Dean, and just when Castiel was about to start up a conversation with him, there was a knock at the door. 

He and Dean exchanged worried glances, Dean even going so far as to draw his gun. Castiel made his way carefully to the door and opened it a crack. 

“Castiel?” 

Surprised, Castiel opened the door all the way to see his coworker Anna standing there. “Anna?” 

Anna didn’t waste a second, she threw herself into his arms and started to cry. “You’re alive,” she gasped out.

“Yes,” Castiel replied, that seemed to be the only thing he felt was appropriate to say. 

“How could you not tell me!?” Anna exclaimed as she released him and they stepped into the house. 

“I was busy.” 

“With what?” Anna asked. 

“Have you seen the news?” 

“Yes, it’s  _ crazy _ !” 

“I was busy with that.” 

Anna frowned at him in confusion. “What’re you talking about?”

Castiel blinked at her for a second, unsure how to go about telling his story, but Dean saved him from speaking. “Well, after his husband died on a secret mission he was kidnapped by the government and tortured for information, when he escaped and found the cabin I was staying in, I saved his life, and we ended up back here where we retrieved the information Inias sent and with a little help from one of my good friends, we managed to expose Roman’s evil plans to the world.” 

Anna gaped at Dean and Castiel couldn’t help but smile at his summary. “What he said.” 

“Is that really true?” 

“Yes,” Castiel answered. 

“And you are?” Anna asked, fixing her gaze on Dean. 

“I’m Dean.” 

“Anna, I work with Castiel.” 

_ Work. Right _ . In all of the events from the last half a year he’d forgotten about his job. 

“How are all of the students?” he asked. 

Anna’s expression softened as she patted Castiel’s arm. “They were all devastated when the news announced that you’d died. They held a ceremony for you, the whole school did. That one girl, Amy, she was the worst of them all, couldn’t stop crying the poor thing.” Castiel’s heart clenched in his chest as Anna continued in a soft voice, “you really made an impact on your students, they’re going to be so relieved to see you again.” 

He hadn’t really thought about going back to teaching, after everything he wasn't even sure if he’d be able to stand in front of a classroom and talk about their government and the ‘good things’ that had happened in history. 

“I don’t know if I’m going to go back,” he said quietly.

“What!? You have to go back! We’re a mess without you, really!” 

“If you’d been through what I have, you wouldn’t want to go back either.” 

Anna nodded slowly. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just… I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too. How did you even know I was here?” 

“I didn’t. I was just driving by and I saw a car in the driveway and I wondered if maybe the house got sold or something. I replaced the front door, just so that critters and things wouldn’t get in, but I hadn’t done anything else, so I didn’t know if some realtors or something had come by and fixed up the inside and sold it. But,  _ you  _ answered the door.” 

“Thank you for fixing the door.” 

“Oh, it was no trouble, really.” 

They gravitated to the couch where Castiel and Anna sat side by side and Dean sat in the chair. Dean turned on the TV while Cas talked with Anna, and Castiel let the conversation carry them away. 

It was nearing the hour mark, when Dean suddenly turned up the TV volume. “Guys, holy shit, check it out.” 

Castiel turned his attention to the TV to see a news reporter speaking.  _ “The news has been rampant these past few days with the reveal of a secret drug that went by the name LVTHN. It was confirmed that President Roman did indeed have a hand in the creation of this drug and was planning to use it against the American people. But we come to you today with even more breaking news, just mere minutes ago, it was reported that President Richard Roman was shot and killed while he was walking to his car...We’ll be back with more news after this short break…”  _

“He’s really dead,” Castiel breathed out. 

“Looks like it,” Dean replied.

“I never thought anything like this would happen,” Cas said quietly. 

“Me either, and all from one little memory stick.” 

As the reporter came back on screen and talked about how the assailant was rumored to have been within the ranks of the President’s private security, Anna excused herself and promised that she’d catch up with Castiel later in the week. 

With Anna gone, tension crackled in the air between him and Dean. Dean seemed to sense it and without a word, he shut off the TV and shifted in his seat so he could face Castiel. 

“Look, Cas, we should talk.” 

The look in Dean’s eyes ignited something in Castiel’s chest, a longing that he could feel tugging desperately at him. 

“What about?” Cas asked, trying to control the rising beat of his heart. 

“You know, what,” Dean replied. 

“I don’t-” 

“You said you need time,” Dean cut in. “I’ll wait for you Cas, I will, but I need to know if I should stay, or go.” 

“Stay.” The words were out of Castiel’s mouth before he even registered what he was saying. “Please, stay.” 

A soft smile pulled at Dean’s lips and he moved to sit beside Castiel on the couch. “Are you sure?” 

Castiel carefully reached out and let his hand fall onto Dean’s where it rested in his lap. Dean stared at their hands for a second and Castiel brought his other hand up to Dean’s face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life.” 

It was true. 

In a matter of seconds he’d realized that he was in love with Dean. He realized that he couldn’t just let this man walk out of his life, he couldn't just  _ ignore  _ the butterflies in his stomach, or the feeling of contentment that washed over him whenever Dean was near him. He would never forget Inias, but Inias was gone, and he had the rest of his life ahead of him. Like Gabriel had said, Inias would want him to be happy, and Dean made him happy. 

As Dean stared disbelievingly into Castiel’s eyes, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to Dean’s. Dean let out a started noise, but he met Castiel’s kiss with passion and everything suddenly felt  _ right _ . 

Dean belonged on Castiel’s couch, in Castiel’s kitchen, mowing Castiel’s lawn, he belonged beside him everyday, and Cas wasn’t going to let him out of his life, he wasn’t going to lose him. 

When they pulled apart, Dean’s lips were beautifully swollen, and his green eyes were covered in a hazy sheen. “So,” Dean said as he cleared his throat. 

Cas smiled and squeezed Dean’s hand. “I want you to stay, please stay.” 

“Of course I’ll stay, Cas,” Dean replied. 

“Good. But first, we need to do something.” 

“What?” 

Cas stood up, tugging Dean with him and then he snatched Dean’s keys from the table and tossed them to him. “We need to go to the park.” 

Dean nodded slowly, a knowing sort of smile on his face. “Okay, Cas.” 

To the park, they went. 

Cas led Dean slowly towards the large oak tree, his hand never leaving Dean’s. When they reached it, they stopped, neither saying a word, until Castiel dropped to his knees. Dean moved to the ground with him and Cas paused for a second before he gripped the ring around his finger and slipped it off. 

He stared at the metal band, playing fondly with it between his thumb and forefinger. “Hello, Inias,” he began. He reached for Dean’s hand again, and Dean took it, the warmth of it was grounding and he let out a shaky breath. “I know you’re not buried here, but I figured if you were going to be anywhere, it would be here. So,” he paused to look over at Dean, who offered him an encouraging smile. “This is Dean.” 

“Hi, Inias,” Dean greeted, his voice soft and filled with respect. 

Castiel paused for another second before he moved forward and began to dig a small hole inside the tree's trunk, exactly where the memory stick had been buried for so many months. 

Once a satisfactory hole was dug, he pressed a soft kiss to his wedding ring, and then placed it carefully in the waiting dirt. He covered it up and then reclaimed Dean’s hand for a third time. “We did it, we exposed Roman, you didn’t die for nothing. Thank you for everything. I’ll never forget you, Inias, never. I love you,” he choked out. Tears fell from his eyes and he mindlessly swiped at them with a sniff. 

“I’ll take good care of him, I promise,” Dean said quietly. 

“Goodbye, Inias.” With that, Castiel stood, and they headed back to the car.

That night, as Dean was about to head to the guest room, Castiel grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the master bedroom. “Stay with me tonight.” 

“Sure, Cas,” Dean replied.

When the bed sagged under Dean’s weight, Castiel gravitated towards him, and Dean welcomed him with open arms. Castiel let himself burrow into Dean’s warm embrace and Dean pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” he said quietly. 

“Night, Cas,” Dean replied, chest vibrating with the words under Cas’ cheek. 

As Castiel’s eyes slipped shut, he clung to Dean tighter, hugging him close, never wanting to let him go. Soon, Castiel found himself slipping off to sleep, a smile on his lips, and the sound of Dean’s breathing a soothing lullaby in a room that used to be deathly quiet. 


	15. Epilogue

Dean heard Cas’ soft footsteps coming down the stairs and he turned to watch as his sleepy-eyed boyfriend rounded the corner into the kitchen. 

“Morning,” Dean greeted as Cas plopped down on one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas replied gruffly as he rubbed at his eyes. 

Dean set a mug of coffee in front of him and Cas smiled at him in gratitude. “Do you want your eggs scrambled or fried?” 

“Whatever you’re having, I’ll have,” Cas said as he took a sip of his coffee. 

“Scrambled it is,” Dean declared. 

He turned back to the stove and began to crack eggs into the pan but he could tell the exact moment when Cas finally woke up enough to see the wrapped package on the counter. “Dean, what’s this?” 

“Why don’t you open it and find out.” 

Cas let out a small little huff but a second later the sound of paper ripping filled the air. “Dean, is this…” 

“Yup,” Dean grinned as he turned around. He pointed his spatula at Cas with a flourish, “you are now dating a published author.” 

“Dean, this is amazing,” Cas said as he began to flip through the book. “I’m going to start it right now.” 

“It’s based off our story, with a little serial killer twist. I hope you like it.” 

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Dean turned back to the stove and continued to flip the eggs around the pan until they were ready. Cas was nose deep in the book and hardly looked up when Dean set a plate of eggs in front of him. 

“I’m going to get dressed and head to work, but we’re still on for tonight, right?” 

At that, Cas did look up. “Of course, Dean.”

Dean grinned and leaned forward to give Cas a kiss, which Cas returned. “Great.”

Once he was dressed he came back downstairs and gave Cas one more kiss, which lasted a little longer than it probably should have, but Dean couldn’t help himself, he would never tire of kissing Cas. 

“Dean, you’ll be late,” Cas said against his lips. 

“Bobby won’t care,” Dean replied. “I love you,” he said as he stole another kiss. 

“I love you too, Dean.”

When they finally broke apart, Dean grabbed his coat, headed out the door, and climbed into the Impala before setting his course to Bobby’s salvage yard. 

The cold Maine air bit at his cheeks as he walked into the garage and Bobby greeted him with a muffled  _ umph _ and a nod of his head. To which Dean replied, “Hey Bobby.”

Dean had only been working for Bobby full time for about five months, the rest of the time he’d been working on his book and helping Cas adjust to life in Maine. Cas had decided to move with Dean instead of staying in D.C. and so they’d been dealing with unpacking boxes and getting Cas settled into his new teaching job. 

It had taken a lot of encouragement for Cas to return to teaching, but Dean had helped him see that his experiences would only help enhance his teaching, and so eventually, Cas had agreed. A school that was about ten minutes away from their house had been hiring and so Dean had driven Cas to his interview and the next week he was a member of the staff.

Dean was proud of how far Cas had come in the past year. He still had nightmares occasionally, but Dean was always there to help him through them. He vividly remembered a night only a few months ago, where Cas had woken Dean with whimpers of pain; that was the night Dean had first told Cas he loved him, and that was the night that he vowed to never stop saying it.

When Dean made it home in the evening, after a long day of working on cars, he found Cas waiting for him on the couch and he plopped down next to him without a word. Cas moved towards him the moment Dean sat down and he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, relishing in the feeling of Cas against his chest. 

“How were your classes today?” Dean asked softly as his fingers carded gently through Cas’ hair. 

“They were fine,” Cas replied quietly. “I just wanted to get home to you.” 

Dean chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of Cas’ head. “That’s all I wanted today, too.” 

Cas shifted so he could look at Dean and then he kissed him gently, but the more they sat there, the more the kiss escalated. Dean let Cas have his way with him, and when they finally moved from the couch to the kitchen so they could start dinner, an hour had passed.

They’d planned a date night so they could destress from the hustle and bustle of their new routine, and so dinner was some chicken dish that Cas wanted to try. Dean prepared the meat while Cas made the sauce that went with it, and in the end, it turned out pretty good. Afterwards they ended up huddled on the couch together while Dean watched TV with the volume on low, and Cas read Dean’s book. They stayed like that for hours, just enjoying each other’s company. 

Midnight was nearing when Cas broke the comfortable silence between them by slamming the book shut. 

“You’re seriously finished with it already?” Dean asked in awe. 

“It was a very good book,” Cas replied. 

“You think?” 

Cas leaned forward slightly to kiss him briefly before he nodded. “Yes.” 

“Did you like the ending?” 

Cas smiled. “Yes,” he replied. 

“Good,” Dean grinned. Cas let out a small gasp of surprise as Dean tugged him into his arms. “Marry me?” Dean asked in a whisper. 

Cas let out a soft sigh. “Yes, Dean. I would love to marry you.”

As a feeling of elation and excitement washed over him, he couldn’t help but let the words of the last paragraph in his book float to his mind. 

_ Who’d have thought that a mountain would be the place that true love was found? That a quiet traveler would meet a man with a dark past who would then be swayed to good by something he never thought he could have, and never thought he was worthy of having: love. When blue met green the universe shifted, the stars aligned, and everything was right in the world. _

Of course Dean’s book was different from the real story. The man who represented Cas was a serial killer who then fell in love with the man he was supposed to make his next victim. But, to anyone who knew that the book was about him and Cas, they’d be able to tell that, with just a little tweaking, the final words could be changed to fit their story.

_ Who’d have thought that a  _ cabin in the woods  _ would be the place that true love was found? That a  _ simple writer  _ would meet a man with a dark past _ , and that he would end up finding  _ something he never thought he could have, and never thought he was worthy of having: love. When blue met green the universe shifted, the stars aligned, and everything was right in the world. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who followed me on this journey! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please feel free to come visit me on any of my social media accounts and I hope you'll follow me to future works :)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fandom_Stuff67)  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/fandom_stuff67)  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fandomstuff67)  
> [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZ9Bfw3pGyBYd3zJCN0umXg?view_as=subscriber)


End file.
